FOOTNOTE:
[8] Copyright, 1905, by the Arthur H. Clark Company.
ADRIEN E. ROUQUETTE
Adrien Emmanuel Rouquette, Louisiana's most distinguished poet, was born at New Orleans, February 13, 1813, the scion of an old and honorable Creole family, and the brother of Francois Dominique Rouquette (1810-1890), who was also a poet of much merit. From his boyhood he had a great fancy for the American Indian, and among them he spent many of his early years. His academic training was begun at Transylvania University of Lexington, Kentucky, but as the old matriculation books have disappeared, it now seems quite impossible to definitely fix his period of residence. From Lexington Rouquette journeyed to Paris, France, where he studied at the Royal College and at Nantes and Remnes. He was graduated from Remnes, March 26, 1833, and at once returned to New Orleans. He had, however, developed into such an unconventional fellow his family decided that a law course in Paris was what he needed, so back to the capital of the French he went. He soon abandoned the law and again returned to New Orleans, where he took up his abode among the Indians. In 1841 Rouquette published his first and best book of poems, written wholly in French, entitled _Les Savanes_ (Paris and New Orleans). Nearly all of the poems were upon Louisiana subjects, save the finest one, _Souvenir de Kentucky_, an exquisite memorial of his Kentucky days, written in 1838. As he was partly educated in Kentucky and in praise of Kentucky wrote his masterpiece, this State has a double claim upon him which, though secondary to that of Louisiana, is none the less legitimate. In 1842 the poet began his studies for the priesthood, and three years later he was ordained and attached to the Catholic cathedral at New Orleans. His subsequent works include _Discours prononce a la Cathedral de Saint Louis_ (New Orleans, 1846); _Wild Flowers_ (New Orleans, 1848); _La Thebaide en Amerique_ (New Orleans, 1852); _L'Antoniade_ (New Orleans, 1860), a long poem in which a solitary life is extolled; _Poemes patriotiques_ (New Orleans, 1860); _St.
Catherine Tegehkwitha_ (New Orleans, 1873); and, _La Nouvelle Atala_ (New Orleans, 1879). In 1859 the Abbe Rouquette established a mission for the Choctaw Indians on the Bayou Lacombe, to which work he gave the larger part of his life. Rouquette also turned into French the poems of Estelle Anna Lewis (1824-1880), the Baltimore woman whom Poe admired; and he edited _Selections from the Poets of all Countries_.
The three great Louisiana writers, Rouquette, the poet, Fortier, the critic, and Gayarre, the historian, published pamphlets condemnatory of Mr. George W. Cable's conceptions of Creole life and history as set forth in his many books. The Abbe sent his out anonymously, entitled _Critical Dialogue between Aboo and Caboo on a New Book, or a Grandissime Ascension_, edited by E. Junius (Great Publishing House of Sam Slick Allspice, 12 Veracity street, Mingo City, 1880). From the Creole standpoint _The Grandissimes_ most probably deserved to be satirized, but not in the cheap and easy manner of this little pamphlet. It was a very unhappy swan-song of senility for the Abbe Rouquette. He died at New Orleans, July 15, 1887, lamented by his city and state. Sainte-Beuve, though recognizing the influence of Chateaubriand in Rouquette's work, praised him highly, as did many of the other famous French critics of his day and generation.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. _Cyclopaedia of American Literature_, by E. A. and G. L. Duyckinck (New York, 1856); _Louisiana Studies_, by Alcee Fortier (New Orleans, 1894); _Literature of the Louisiana Territory_, by A. N. DeMenil (St. Louis, 1904).
SOUVENIR DE KENTUCKY
[From _Les Savanes, Poesies Americaines_ (Paris, 1841)]
Kentucky, the bloody land!
Le Seigneur dit a Osee: "Apres cela, neanmoins, je l'attirerai doucement a moi, je l'amenerai dans la solitude, et je lui parlerai au coeur."--(_La Bible_ Osee).
Enfant, je dis un soir: Adieu, ma bonne mere!
Et je quittai gaiment sa maison et sa terre, Enfant, dans mon exil, une lettre, un matin, (O Louise!) m'apprit que j'etais orphelin!
Enfant, je vis les bois du Kentucky sauvage, Et l'homme se souvient des bois de son jeune age!
Ah! dans le Kentucky les arbres sont bien beaux: C'est la _terre de sang_, aux indiens tombeaux, Terre aux belles forets, aux seculaires chenes, Aux bois suivis de bois, aux magnifiques scenes; Imposant cimetiere, ou dorment en repos Tant de _rouges-tribus_ et tant de _blanches-peaux_; Ou l'ombre du vieux Boon, immobile genie, Semble ecouter, la nuit, l'eternelle harmonie, Le murmure eternel des immenses deserts, Ces mille bruits confus, ces mille bruits divers, Cet orgue des forets, cet orchestre sublime, O Dieu! que seul tu fis, que seul ton souffle anime!
Quand au vaste clavier pese un seul de tes doigts, Soudain, roulent dans l'air mille flots a la fois: Soudain, au fond des bois, sonores basiliques, Bourdonne un ocean de sauvages musiques; Et l'homme, a tous ces sons de l'orgue universel, L'homme tombe a genoux, en regardant le ciel!
Il tombe, il croit, il prie; et, chretien sans etude, Il retrouve, etonne, Dieu dans la solitude!
A portion of this famous poem was translated by a writer in _The Southern Quarterly Review_ (July, 1854).
Here, with its Indian tombs, the Bloody Land Spreads out:--majestic forests, secular oaks, Woods stretching into woods; a witching realm, Yet haunted with dread shadows;--a vast grave, Where, laid together in the sleep of death, Rest myriads of the red men and the pale.
Here, the stern forest genius, veteran Boon, Still harbors: still he hearkens, as of yore, To never ceasing harmonies, that blend, At night, the murmurs of a thousand sounds, That rise and swell capricious, change yet rise, Borne from far wastes immense, whose mingling strains-- The forest organ's tones, the sylvan choir-- Thy breath alone, O God! can'st animate, Making it fruitful in the matchless space!
Thy mighty fingers pressing on its keys, How suddenly the billowy tones roll up From the great temples of the solemn depths, Resounding through the immensity of wood To the grand gushing harmonies, that speak For thee, alone, O Father. As we hear The unanimous concert of this mighty chaunt, We bow before thee; eyes uplift to Heaven, We pray thee, and believe. A Christian sense Informs us, though untaught in Christian books Awed into worship, as we learn to know That thou, O God, art in the solitude!
EMILY V. MASON
Miss Emily Virginia Mason, biographer and anthologist, was born at Lexington, Kentucky, October 15, 1815, the sister of Stevens Thompson Mason, first governor of Michigan. She was educated in Kentucky schools and in a female seminary at Troy, New York. From 1845 until 1861 Miss Mason lived in Fairfax county, Virginia, but when the Civil War began she left her home and volunteered in the Confederate States hospital service; and she was matron successively of hospitals in the Virginia towns of Greenbrier, White Sulphur Springs, Charlottesville, Lynchburg, and Richmond. Miss Mason won a wide reputation in this work, becoming one of the best loved of Southern women. Almost immediately after the war her first literary work was published, an anthology of _The Southern Poems of the War_ (Baltimore, 1867) which was one of the first collection issued of verse which owed its origin to the war. Her second book was what she always said was the first life of Lee, though John Esten Cooke's account of the great soldier appeared about the same time, entitled _A Popular Life of General Robert Edward Lee_ (Baltimore, 1871). This was followed by her edition of _The Journal of a Young Lady of Virginia in 1798_ (1871), which enjoyed wide popularity among Virginians of her generation. Miss Mason went to Paris, France, about 1870, and for the following fifteen years she was associate principal of an American school for young women. Upon her return to this country she established herself in an attractive old Southern home at Georgetown, D.
C., in which she spent the remainder of her life. Miss Mason's last literary work was _Memories of a Hospital Matron_, which appeared in _The Atlantic Monthly_ for September and October of 1902. She was an able writer and a most remarkable woman in many respects. Miss Mason died at Georgetown, D. C., February 16, 1909, at the great age of ninety-four years.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. _Southern Writers_, by W. P. Trent (New York, 1905); _The Washington Post_ (February 17, 1909).
THE DEATH OF LEE
[From _A Popular Life of General Robert E. Lee_ (Baltimore, 1871)]
On the evening of this day, 28th of September [1870] after a morning of great fatigue, he attended the vestry meeting referred to, returned home, and seated at the tea-table, opened his lips to give thanks to God.
The family looked up to see the parted lips, but heard no sound. With that last thanksgiving his great heart broke.
For many days his weeping friends hung over him, hoping for a return of health and reason, but in vain. He murmured of battles and sieges; of guarded tents and fields just won. Among his last words were: "Strike my tent! Send for Hill!" Remarkably coincident with those of his great lieutenant, Jackson, whose words were: "Let A. P. Hill prepare for action! March the infantry rapidly to the front! Let us cross the river and rest under the shade of the trees."
At 9 o'clock on the morning of the 12th of October, the great soldier breathed his last.
The following day his body was borne to the college-chapel, escorted by a guard of honor composed of Confederate soldiers. Next the hearse was led General Lee's favorite horse "Traveller," who had borne him in so many battles. The Trustees and Faculty of the college, the cadets of the Military Institute, and the citizens, followed in procession.
Above the chapel floated the flag of Virginia, draped in mourning.
Through this and the succeeding day, the body, covered with flowers, lay in state, visited by thousands who came to look for the last time upon his noble features.
On the 15th, the last said rites were rendered, amid the tolling of the bells, the sound of martial music, and the thundering of artillery.
The students, officers and soldiers of the Confederate army, and about a thousand persons, assembled at the chapel. A military escort, with the officers of General Lee's staff, were in the front. The hearse followed, with the faithful "Traveller" close behind it. Next came a committee of the Virginia Legislature, with citizens from all parts of the State. Passing the Military Institute, the cadets made the military salute as the body appeared, then joined the procession, and escorted it back to the chapel.
It had been the request of General Lee that no funeral oration should be pronounced over his remains. His old and long-tried friend, the Rev. Wm. N. Pendleton, simply read the burial services of the Episcopal Church, after which was lowered into a tomb beneath the chapel all that was mortal of Robert E. Lee.
EDMUND FLAGG
Edmund Flagg, traveler, journalist, and poet, was born at Wiscasset, Maine, November 24, 1815. Immediately upon his graduation from Bowdoin College, in 1835, he removed to Louisville, Kentucky, and became a teacher. His letters written to the _Louisville Journal_ while traveling in the states of the Middle West, were afterwards collected, revised, and published anonymously, entitled _The Far West, or a Tour beyond the Mountains_ (New York, 1838, two vols.). This work has been edited by Dr. Reuben Gold Thwaites and published as volumes 26 and 27 of _Early Western Travels_ (Cleveland, 1906). In 1839 Flagg became associate editor of the Louisville _Literary News-Letter_, of which George D. Prentice was editor. All of his poems of merit were published in the _Journal_, and _News-Letter_. Flagg contributed both prose and verse to the Louisville papers for nearly thirty-five years.
Ill-health compelled him to abandon journalism for law, and at Vicksburg, Mississippi, he formed a partnership with the celebrated Sargent Smith Prentiss. Two years later he became editor of the _Gazette_ at Marietta, Ohio. Flagg's first two novels were issued about this time, entitled _Carrero_ (New York, 1842), and _Francois of Valois_ (New York, 1842). He was next editor of a publication at St.
Louis; and in 1849 he was secretary of the American legation at Berlin. In 1850-1851 he was United States consul at Venice. He afterwards returned to St. Louis and to journalism. Two of his plays, _Blanche of Artois_, and _The Howard Queen_, were well received at Louisville, Cincinnati, and several other cities. In 1853 Flagg's _Venice, the City of the Sea_, appeared, and it won him a wide reputation. _North Italy since 1849_, issued some years later, resumed the story of Venice where his first work had left off, and brought it down to date. Flagg was afterwards connected with the State department in Washington, and under an order from Congress he prepared his famous _Report on the Commercial Relations of the United States with all Foreign Nations_ (Washington, 1856-1857, four vols.). His final work was a novel, _De Molai, the Last of the Military Templars_ (1888). Edmund Flagg died at Salem, Virginia, in 1890. He is most certainly a Kentucky poet, journalist, and traveler, but his fame as a dramatist, historian, and novelist belongs wholly to other states.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. _Literature of the Louisiana Territory_, by A. N.
DeMenil (St. Louis, 1904); Adams's _Dictionary of American Authors_ (Boston, 1905).
THE ANCIENT MOUNDS OF THE WEST
[From _The Louisville Literary News-Letter_]
Ages since--long ere the first son of the Old World had pressed the fresh soil of the New--long before the bright region beyond the blue waves had become the object of the philosopher's reverie by day, and the enthusiast's vision by night--in the deep stillness and solitude of an unpeopled land, these vast mausoleums rose as they now rise, in lonely grandeur from the plain and looked down even as now they look, upon the giant floods rolling their dark waters at their base, hurrying past them to the deep. So has it been with the massive tombs of Egypt, amid the sands and barrenness of the desert. For ages untold have the gloomy pyramids been reflected by the inundations of the Nile; an hundred generations, they tell us, have arisen from the cradle, and reposed beneath their shadows, and like autumn leaves have dropped into the grave; but, from the midnight of bygone centuries, comes forth no darting spirit to claim these kingly sepulchres as his own! And shall the dusky piles, on the plains of distant Egypt affect so deeply our reverence for the departed, and these mighty monuments, reposing in dark sublimity upon our own magnificent prairies, vailed in mystery more inscrutable than they, call forth no solitary throb?
Is there no hallowing interest associated with these aged relics--these tombs, and temples, and towers' of another race, to elicit emotion? Are they indeed to us no more than the dull clods we tread upon? Why then does the wanderer from the far land gaze upon them with wonder and veneration? Why linger fondly around them, and meditate upon the power which reared them, and is departed? Why does the poet, the man of genius and fancy, or the philosopher of mind and nature, seat himself at their base, and with strange and undefined emotions, pause and ponder, amid the loneliness that slumbers around?
And surely, if the far traveler, as he wanders through this Western Valley, may linger around these aged piles, and meditate upon a power departed--a race obliterated--an influence swept from the earth forever--and dwell with melancholy emotions upon the destiny of man, is it not meet, that those into whose keeping they seem by Providence consigned, should regard them with interest and emotion?--that they should gather up and preserve every incident relevant to their origin, design, or history, which may be attained, and avail themselves of every measure, which may give to them perpetuity, and hand them down, undisturbed in form or character, to other generations?
That these venerable piles are of the workmanship of man's hand, no one, who with unprejudiced opinion has examined them, can doubt. But with such an admission, what is the cloud of reflections, which throng and startle the mind? What a series of unanswerable inquiries succeed!
When were these enormous earth heaps reared up from the plain? By what race of beings was the vast undertaking accomplished? What was their purpose?--what changes in their form and magnitude have taken place?--what vicissitudes and revolutions have, in the lapse of centuries, rolled like successive waves over the plains at their base?