Download Mp3 Drop It At My Feet By Frank Edward

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A martlet in English heraldry is a mythical bird without feet that never roosts from the moment of its drop-birth until its death fall; martlets are proposed to be continuously on the wing. It is a compelling allegory for continuous effort, expressed in heraldic charge depicting a stylised bird similar to a swift or a house martin, without feet. It should be distinguished from the merlette of French heraldry, which is a duck-like bird with a swan-neck and chopped-off beak and legs. The Common Swift rarely lands outside breeding season, and sleeps while airborne.

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At the first call of the Confederate Government for men to repel the Yankee invaders from our soil, the noble and brave of Macon rushed to the rescue. Our homes should not be invaded. Their wives and sisters should not be insulted no, indeed, not while a hand remained to prevent it. Such was the feeling. Among the first who enlisted was Walter King and his legal friend. They formed a company which belonged to the Regiment of which the gallant Bartow became Colonel, and Walter was appointed Captain and his legal friend the First Lieutenant.

Every one has read of the First Battle of Manassas, and how confident of victory the Yankees were. Even the women accompanied them to witness the defeat of the rebels, and form the feminine element in the proposed triumphant dinner, for which the "conquerors" prepared their appetites, in Richmond. Grand preparations were made for the celebration of the victory, and carriage loads of champagne and numberless delicacies followed the rear of their army.

The scene was such a one as a painter alone could describe with justice to its splendor and singularity. The grand living panorama the gay, glittering uniforms of the Federals contrasting greatly with the somber apparel of the Confederates, filling the plain, while, from the surrounding heights, the gaping spectators, filled with horror at the unexpected turn affairs had taken the continuous roar of artillery, the fierce struggle for freedom; then the flight of the foes of Southern freedom, and the dispersion of their panic-stricken hosts our exultant cry, "the victory is ours," and then the ghastly field, strown with dead and dying; the conquered and the conquerer lying together to rise no more, until the last trump shall call them to the bar of God, to answer there at His dread tribunal, for the misery inflicted by them on the wives, mothers and daughters of the Confederate assertors of the right to rule themselves.

During the afternoon, the gallant Col. Bartow had fallen, shot through the heart. He was grasping the standard of his regiment, and, calling the few brave men who gathered around him, he uttered these memorable words, "They have killed me, but never give up the field." His men, true to their commander, even though his voice was silenced by death, obeyed his last command, and the battery was silenced which had killed him; but, alas, not before many brave hearts had followed their leader.

An hour later, had you been upon the battle-field, you would have seen a form slowly creeping among the dead and dying, until he came to the spot where lay the body of the gallant Bartow. It was his favorite, Captain Walter King. That last charge had given a death wound to as brave a soldier as ever lived or died. Taking the cold hand of Bartow in his own clammy fingers, he said:

We shall not be parted long, Frank. That charge did for us both. But, thank God, we leave brave hearts behind, and as long as one remains, our Confederacy will be unconquered!'

The damp of death was gathering fast upon his brow. A comrade, his legal friend, Edward Leigh, wiped away the cold drops, and vainly tried to staunch the death flood which was gushing from the wound in his side.

'Tis all in vain, Ned, my minutes are numbered. Life was bright oh, so bright to me! My wife, my darling Ella and my little ones, how can I leave them? For who will protect them when I am gone?'

Edward placed his hand in Walter's, who understood his meaning, and said:

Thank you, Edward! May God bless you for the comfort you have given, thus, a dying man. To the world, Ella may seem gay, heartless and giddy; but I tell you, my friend, she is a true woman at heart. I have never fully appreciated her virtues until now. Tell her, Edward, that I have placed my business in your hands; and, in after years, if you can aid my dear wife by your counsel and advice to thread the difficult path a widow is compelled to travel, among the snares of the world, oh, do so; and point out the right path to my dear orphan children, as they pass through temptations which surround youth. Farewell! Edward, God bless you, and my Ella! Ella!'

And thus, with his last breath, bestowing a blessing upon his wife and friend, Walter King breathed his last, another sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.

The sun, fiery with grief and rage, could look no longer on the field of battle, and, sinking gradually behind the azure mountains of the Blue Ridge, he hid his face in the shadows, that night might weep her dews and showers over the living and the dead. Who can describe the horrors of that night? There, in the open air, lay the countless dead and dying. Heart-rending cries for succor; prayers for water to moisten their dry lips; while half delirious victims of fever begged mother, wife or sister, to bathe the throbbing temples, when, alas! these dear friends were far away, wholly unconscious of the fate of their beloved ones. Even the stars refused to shine, and the moon, the queen of night, veiled her form in a cloud, and her tears which descended in the form of a shower, moistened the lips of the dying.

Far in the night, Edward sat by the body of his friend. At last he succeeded in calling the bearers of an ambulance to him, and they bore away the corpse.

To Edward was left the sad trial of writing to the bereaved wife and mother, and also of accompanying the body of Walter home; where he was buried with military honors. If you chance to stroll through the romantic Rose Hill cemetery, you will find there his tomb, never destitute of fresh flowers a single day.

My grief I will not attempt to describe. Suffice it to say, that for a year my life was one of the strictest seclusion. No gentlemen visitors did I, during that time, receive, not even Edward Leigh, whose business communications were made by letter. Remorse for my thoughtless levities gnawed at my heart. Oh, remember husband, wife, that your partner may die first; and so conduct yourselves that no pain may be felt in the future for imprudences.

At the commencement of the second year, I resumed my former place in fashionable society, and, although sadly changed, was still what the world calls a gay woman. Many suitors bowed at my shrine, and among them were men who had loved me as a girl. Some who had tried in vain to make love to me during my wedded life, now returned to make another vain attempt. Edward Leigh, too, came to see me, and I swoon learned the value of his true and noble heart.

My old love of fun returned, and I determined to teach the men a lesson, and find out who were really in earnest, at the same time.

Each man who had made proposals of marriage to me during three months, I told to come to my house, on the evening of the last day of October, for their final answer, which they promised to do. The day came. You can well imagine my excitement, for I was not sure the one I really loved would come.

Scarcely had the shades of night enveloped the earth, when the bell rang, and a servant ushered Reginald Pompus, into the parlor, looking rather pale and thin, from his intense anxiety, he said, but as I heard, from a slight excess in the wine cup.

Dear Mrs. King', said he, how glad I am, that at last you will make me the happiest of mortals'.

How sir?' said I.

By at last doing as you should have done years ago, consenting to become the wife of one, who is every way worthy'.

Mr. Pompus', I answered, by telling you to come to my house to-night, I gave you to understand, that your suit might be accepted, and it might not. To-night you shall have my decision'.

But Miss Ella, after my long continued love, you cannot help accepting me. I know that you love me'.

Sir', said I, explain yourself more clearly'.

Miss Ella, I do mean, I don't mean, I mean' Just then the door-bell sounded, and I left him to explain his meaning to the air. I had directed the servant to show all the gentlemen into the reception room, where I could see them privately, before turning the animals into the cage together. In the room I found Henry Peyton, still handsome and conceited as ever.

Mrs. King', said he, do not be as cruel as you once were, and consign me again to a lonely life. I have faded but little; my teeth are still sound; my hair is but slightly tinged with grey, and my feet, although a little spread by marching, are still good-looking, and without a corn on them. I beg you to give me a favorable answer'.

I sent them to the parlor to keep Reginald company, for I heard other footsteps on the threshold. I cannot describe my many suitors, but among them were two base men, who had kindly offered to divorce their wives, if I would marry them. These ladies, I had invited to take tea with me, and promised to also invite the husbands, so their coming would excite no suspicions in the minds of the ladies. A few friends I had also invited were in another parlor, and I had promised to call them in as soon as I found there was no danger in my menagerie of suitors. The husbands came, and as it was useless to have a private conversation with them, I only said, that their wives would be there in a few moments, and sent them in the parlor. Last of all Edward Leigh came, and reader, you know what my answer was to him.

Oh dear! how amusing it was to see the faces! Some confused, some angry, some pale, and some enjoying the joke, but all, looking as if they would like to be in a more comfortable predicament. After some fifteen or twenty minutes of general conversation, I said:

Gentlemen, I believe some of you (I did not say all, for I did not wish to expose the married men,) come to receive my answer to your honorable proposal of marriage. Am I right?"

Edward Leigh and Henry Peyton alone had courage to say you are'.

Reginald Pompus drew himself up proudly.

How can you trifle with a gentleman of my standing?' Henry Peyton, who was somewhat of a wag, whispered,

He does stand rather high Mrs. King, six feet two inches without his boots.'

What do you mean Mr. Pompus', said I, determined, for the amusement of the crowd, to get him on his meaning!

Why madam', said he, I don't mean, I do mean, I mean'

For the Lord's sake', exclaimed Henry Peyton, do tell your meaning, at once, don't whip the devil around the stump any longer'.

Mr. Peyton', said Pompus, I hold you responsible for this insult; you shall hear from me in the morning. Good evening ladies', and he left the room, leaving my friends convulsed with laughter.

An old widower who had been paying attention to me for some months, now arose and said:

I think that you have served us rather badly; such an exposure is unpardonable. But for once I will overlook such a liberty, and I now renew my offer of marriage. Will you accept it?'

No sir', said I, and I am very sorry for the part I have acted towards you. Your venerable age should have commanded at least my respect'.

This was the unkindest cut of all, and my old friend muttered incorrigible', and resumed his seat.

Just then a servant called me from the room. In a little while Edward followed, and you may judge the surprise of the gentlemen, when the folding doors were thrown open, and a bridal party stood before them. The girls had conducted the affair with such silence, that not a whisper had reached the crowd in the adjoining room.

And there and then, Edward Leigh and I were united in the holy bands of matrimony, and I for one do not regret it.