[Poems by Woolson in] Five generations (1785-1923) being scattered chapters from the history of the Cooper, Pomeroy, Woolson and Benedict families, with extracts From their Letters and Journals, as well as articles and poems by Constance Fenimore Woolson |
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KENTUCKY BELLE.
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 | [Poems by Woolson in] Five generations (1785-1923) |  |
239
KENTUCKY BELLE.
(Told in an Ohio farm-house; 1868).
“Summer of sixty-three, sir, and Conrad was gone away—
Gone to the county-town, sir, to sell our first load of hay;
We lived in the log-house yonder, poor as ever you've seen;
Röschen there was a baby, and I was only nineteen.
Gone to the county-town, sir, to sell our first load of hay;
We lived in the log-house yonder, poor as ever you've seen;
Röschen there was a baby, and I was only nineteen.
Conrad he took the oxen, but he left Kentucky Belle;
How much we thought of Kentuck, I couldn't begin to tell;
Came from the Blue-Grass country, my father gave her to me,
When I rode north with Conrad, away from the Tennessee.
How much we thought of Kentuck, I couldn't begin to tell;
Came from the Blue-Grass country, my father gave her to me,
When I rode north with Conrad, away from the Tennessee.
Conrad lived in Ohio,—a German he is you know:
The house stood right in the cornfields, stretching on row after row—
The old folks made me welcome; they were kind as kind could be,
But I kept longing, longing, for the hills of the Tennessee!
The house stood right in the cornfields, stretching on row after row—
The old folks made me welcome; they were kind as kind could be,
But I kept longing, longing, for the hills of the Tennessee!
Oh! for a sight of water, the shady top of a hill,
The smell of the mountain balsams, a wind that never is still!
But the level land went stretching away to meet the sky,
Never a rise from north to south to rest the homesick eye;
The smell of the mountain balsams, a wind that never is still!
But the level land went stretching away to meet the sky,
Never a rise from north to south to rest the homesick eye;
From east to west no river to shine out under the moon,
Nothing to make a shadow in the yellow afternoon,
Only the steady sunshine as I looked out all forlorn,
Only the “rustle, rustle,” as I walked among the corn.
Nothing to make a shadow in the yellow afternoon,
Only the steady sunshine as I looked out all forlorn,
Only the “rustle, rustle,” as I walked among the corn.
When I fell sick with pining, we didn't wait any more
We moved away from the cornfields out to this river-shore;
The Tuscarawas it's called, sir, off there's a hill you see—
And now I've got to like it next best to the Tennessee.
We moved away from the cornfields out to this river-shore;
The Tuscarawas it's called, sir, off there's a hill you see—
And now I've got to like it next best to the Tennessee.
I was at work that morning. Someone came riding like mad
Over the bridge and up the road—Farmer Rouf's little lad;
Bareback he rode; he had no hat; he hardly stopped to say:
‘Morgan's men are coming, Frau, they're galloping straight this way!
Over the bridge and up the road—Farmer Rouf's little lad;
Bareback he rode; he had no hat; he hardly stopped to say:
‘Morgan's men are coming, Frau, they're galloping straight this way!
‘I'm sent to warn the neighbours. He isn't a mile behind;
He sweeps up all the horses, every horse that he can find;
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men,
With bowie-knives and pistols are galloping up the glen!’
He sweeps up all the horses, every horse that he can find;
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men,
With bowie-knives and pistols are galloping up the glen!’
The lad rode down the valley; and I stood still at the door;
The baby laughed and prattled, playing with spools on the floor;
Kentuck was in the pasture; Conrad, my man, was gone;
And nearer and nearer Morgan's men were galloping, galloping on!
The baby laughed and prattled, playing with spools on the floor;
Kentuck was in the pasture; Conrad, my man, was gone;
And nearer and nearer Morgan's men were galloping, galloping on!
240
Sudden I picked up baby, and ran to the pasture-bar,
‘Kentuck,’ I called, ‘Kentucky’; she knew me ever so far.
I led her down the gully that turns off there to the right,
And tied her to the bushes; her head was just out of sight.
‘Kentuck,’ I called, ‘Kentucky’; she knew me ever so far.
I led her down the gully that turns off there to the right,
And tied her to the bushes; her head was just out of sight.
As I ran back to the log-house, my ears they caught a sound,
The ring of hoofs, galloping hoofs, thundering over the ground;
Coming into the turnpike, out from the White-Woman glen,
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men!
The ring of hoofs, galloping hoofs, thundering over the ground;
Coming into the turnpike, out from the White-Woman glen,
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men!
I scarce could breathe, and nearly my heart it stopped in alarm,
As still I stood in the doorway, with baby on my arm;
They came; they passed; with spur and whip in haste they swept along,
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and his band, six hundred strong.
As still I stood in the doorway, with baby on my arm;
They came; they passed; with spur and whip in haste they swept along,
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and his band, six hundred strong.
Oh! fierce they looked and jaded, riding through night, and through day,
Pushing straight on for the river, many long miles away,
They must reach the edge of Virginia where it bends up toward the West.
They must reach the ford and cross it, before they could stop for rest.
Pushing straight on for the river, many long miles away,
They must reach the edge of Virginia where it bends up toward the West.
They must reach the ford and cross it, before they could stop for rest.
On like the wind they hurried, and Morgan rode in advance,
Bright were his eyes like live coals as he gave me a hasty glance,
And I was just breathing freely, after my choking pain,
When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his rein.
Bright were his eyes like live coals as he gave me a hasty glance,
And I was just breathing freely, after my choking pain,
When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his rein.
Frightened I was to death, sir; I scarce dared look in his face,
As he asked for a drink of water, and glanced about the place,
I gave him a drink, and he smiled; his eyes were soft and blue—
'Twas only a boy; and his tired voice was the dear home-voice I knew!
As he asked for a drink of water, and glanced about the place,
I gave him a drink, and he smiled; his eyes were soft and blue—
'Twas only a boy; and his tired voice was the dear home-voice I knew!
Only sixteen he was, sir—a fond mother's only son,
Off and away with Morgan before his life had begun;
The big drops stood on his temples, drawn was the boyish mouth,
And I thought me of that mother, waiting down in the South!
Off and away with Morgan before his life had begun;
The big drops stood on his temples, drawn was the boyish mouth,
And I thought me of that mother, waiting down in the South!
Oh, pluck was he to the backbone, and clear grit through and through,
Boasted and bragged like a trooper, but the big words wouldn't do!
The boy was dying, sir, dying—as plain as plain could be,
Worn out by his ride with Morgan, up from the Tennessee.
Boasted and bragged like a trooper, but the big words wouldn't do!
The boy was dying, sir, dying—as plain as plain could be,
Worn out by his ride with Morgan, up from the Tennessee.
But when I told the laddie that I, too, was from the South,
Water came to his dim eyes and quivers about his mouth;
‘Do you know the Blue-Grass Country?’ he wistful began to say,
Then swayed like a willow sapling, and fainted clean away.
Water came to his dim eyes and quivers about his mouth;
‘Do you know the Blue-Grass Country?’ he wistful began to say,
Then swayed like a willow sapling, and fainted clean away.
I had him into the log-house, and worked and brought him to:—
I fed him, and I coaxed him, as I thought his mother'd do;
And when the faintness left him, and the noise in his head was gone,
Morgan's men were miles away, galloping, galloping on.
I fed him, and I coaxed him, as I thought his mother'd do;
And when the faintness left him, and the noise in his head was gone,
Morgan's men were miles away, galloping, galloping on.
241
He tried to go—the laddie! ‘You've kept me half the day!
Morgan, Morgan is waiting for me! Oh, what will Morgan say?’
But I heard a sound in the distance, and kept him back from the door,
The very same sound of horses' hoofs that I had heard before!
Morgan, Morgan is waiting for me! Oh, what will Morgan say?’
But I heard a sound in the distance, and kept him back from the door,
The very same sound of horses' hoofs that I had heard before!
And on, on, came the soldiers, the Michigan Cavalry,
And hard they rode, and black they looked, galloping rapidly,
They had followed hard on Morgan's track; they had followed day and night
But of Morgan and Morgan's raiders, they had never caught a sight.
And hard they rode, and black they looked, galloping rapidly,
They had followed hard on Morgan's track; they had followed day and night
But of Morgan and Morgan's raiders, they had never caught a sight.
And rich Ohio sat frightened through all those troubled days,
For strange wild men were galloping over her broad highways,
Now here, now there, now seen, now gone, now north, now east, now west,
Through river valleys, and cornland farms, sweeping away her best.
For strange wild men were galloping over her broad highways,
Now here, now there, now seen, now gone, now north, now east, now west,
Through river valleys, and cornland farms, sweeping away her best.
A bold ride and a long ride! But they were taken at last!
They had almost reached the river by galloping hard and fast,
But the boys in blue were upon them, or ever they crossed the ford,
And Morgan, Morgan the raider, laid down his terrible sword.
They had almost reached the river by galloping hard and fast,
But the boys in blue were upon them, or ever they crossed the ford,
And Morgan, Morgan the raider, laid down his terrible sword.
Well—I kept the lad till evening, kept him against his will,
But he was too weak to follow, and sat there pale and still;
Then when his head was better, you'll wonder to hear me tell—
I stole down to that gully and brought up Kentucky Belle.
But he was too weak to follow, and sat there pale and still;
Then when his head was better, you'll wonder to hear me tell—
I stole down to that gully and brought up Kentucky Belle.
I kissed the star on her forehead—my pretty, gentle lass—
But I knew that she'd be happy, back in the old Blue-Grass;
A suit of clothes of Conrad's, and all the money I had,
And Kentuck, pretty Kentucky, I gave to the worn-out lad.
But I knew that she'd be happy, back in the old Blue-Grass;
A suit of clothes of Conrad's, and all the money I had,
And Kentuck, pretty Kentucky, I gave to the worn-out lad.
I guided him to the southward as well as I knew how;
The boy rode off with many thanks, and many a backward bow;
Then when the glow had faded, my heart began to swell,
As down the glen away she went, my lost Kentucky Belle!
The boy rode off with many thanks, and many a backward bow;
Then when the glow had faded, my heart began to swell,
As down the glen away she went, my lost Kentucky Belle!
When Conrad came in the evening, the moon was shining high,
Baby and I were both crying, I could'nt tell him why!
But a battered suit of rebel grey was hanging against the wall,
And a thin old horse with drooping head stood in Kentucky's stall.
Baby and I were both crying, I could'nt tell him why!
But a battered suit of rebel grey was hanging against the wall,
And a thin old horse with drooping head stood in Kentucky's stall.
Well—he was kind and never once said a harsh word to me—
For he knew I couldn't help it—'twas my love for Tennessee.
But after the war was over, just think what came to pass—
A letter, sir; and the two were safe, back in the old Blue-Grass!
For he knew I couldn't help it—'twas my love for Tennessee.
But after the war was over, just think what came to pass—
A letter, sir; and the two were safe, back in the old Blue-Grass!
The lad got across the border, riding Kentucky Belle,
And Kentuck, she was happy, and fat, and hearty, and well,
He kept her, and he petted her, nor touched her with whip nor spur—
Well—we've had many horses, but never a horse like her!
And Kentuck, she was happy, and fat, and hearty, and well,
He kept her, and he petted her, nor touched her with whip nor spur—
Well—we've had many horses, but never a horse like her!
| [Poems by Woolson in] Five generations (1785-1923) | |