those memorable poems and martial lyrics: "Carolina", "A Cry to Arms",
"Charleston", "Ripley", "Ethnogenesis", and "The Cotton Boll",
which deeply stirred the heart of his State, and, indeed, of the whole South.
His was the voice of his people. Under its spell the public response
was quick, and promised largest honor and world-wide fame for the poet.
The project formed by some of the most eminent men of the State, late in 1862,
was to publish an illustrated and highly embellished edition of his works
in London. The war correspondent of the "London Illustrated News", Vizitelly,
himself an artist, promised original illustrations, and the future seemed
bright for the gratification of his heart's desire, to be known and heard in
the great literary centre of the English-speaking world. But disappointment
again was his lot. Amid the increasing stress of the conflict,
every public and private energy in the South was absorbed in maintaining
the ever weakening struggle; and with all art and literature and learning
our poet's hopes were buried in the common grave of war;
not because he was not loved and cherished, and his genius appreciated,
but because a terrible need was upon his people, and desperate issues
were draining their life-blood. Then he went to the front.
Too weak for the field (for the fatal weakness that finally sapped his life
was then upon him), he was compelled, under medical direction,
to retire from the battle ranks, and made a last desperate effort
to serve the cause he loved as a war correspondent. In this capacity
he joined the great army of the West after the battle of Shiloh.
The story of his camp life was indeed pathetic. Dr. Bruns writes of him then:
"One can scarcely conceive of a situation more hopelessly wretched
than that of a mere child in the world's ways suddenly flung down
into the heart of that strong retreat, and tossed like a straw
on the crest of those refluent waves from which he escaped as by a miracle."
Home he came, baffled, dispirited, and sore hurt, to receive the succor
of generous friendship, and for a brief time a safe congenial refuge,