io«-s. iv. OCT. 7, iocs.] NOTES AND QUERIES. 297
as taken down by my late father during his stay in South Carolina in 1862, and published in his 'Errand to the South' by Richard Bentley, New Burlington Street, London, in that year:—
i.
"All quiet along the Potōmac," they say,
"Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket."
'Tis nothing—a private or two now and then
Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost—only one of the men—
Moaning out, all alone, the death rattle.
ii.
All quiet along the Potōmac to-night,
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming.
As their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
Or the light of the watch-fires, are gleaming.
A tremulous sigh of the gentle night wind
Through the forest-leaves slowly is creeping:
While the stars up above, with their glitteriug eyes,
Keep guard—for the army is sleeping.
iii.
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread.
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two on the low trundle-bed,
Far away in the cot on the mountain:
His musket falls slack—his face dark and grim
Crows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep—
For their mother—may Heaven defend her!
iv.
The moon seems to shine as brightly as then,
That night when the love yet unspoken
Leaped up to his lips, and when low murmured vows
Were pledged, to be ever unbroken;
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
He dashes off tears that are welling,
And gathers his gun closely up to its place,
As if to keep down the heart-swelling.
{{c|v.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree,
The footsteps are lagging and weary,
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light,
Toward the shades of a wood dark and dreary,
Hark! was it the night wind that rustled the leaves?
Was't the moonlight so wondrously flashing?
It looked like a rifle—"Ha!—Mary, good-bye!"
And the life-blood is ebbing and plashing.
vi.
All quiet along the Potōmac to-night,
No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead—
The picket off duty for ever!
There are some verses by Bret Harte something like those quoted:—
An hour ago, a Star was falling.
A star? There's nothing strange in that.
No, nothing; but above the thicket,
Somehow it seemed to me that God
Somewhere had just relieved a picket.
The heading is 'Relieving Guard. T. S. K. obiit March 4. 1864.' (See 'That Heathen Chinee, and other Poems,' by F. Bret Harte, p. 94; or 'The Select Works of Bret Harte,' p. 472.) Robert Pierpoint.
[Mr. V. C. L. Floyd also forwards a copy of the verses.]
Motor Index Marks (10ᵗʰ S. ii. 468; iii.
153).—The explanation of the letters on
motor-cars given at the latter reference is
wrong. The population of a town or county
originally fixed the letter which was to
designate it. London, having the largest
population, is marked by A. Then came
Lancashire with B, and the West Riding
with C. When the single letters were exhausted
two letters were used. Where the
first letter is A it shows that the place of
registration is larger than where the first
letter is B. The smallest English place with
its own mark is Rutland, which has the letters
FP. All Irish places have I for their first
letter, and Scottish ones have S, except
Edinburgh and Glasgow, which are represented
by the single letters S and G respectively, while Lanark has V.
The letters do not show where the owner of the car lives, but only where he registered it, and he may do this in any district he likes. If, therefore, a man lives in Devon and buys a car in Coventry which he wishes to drive home, he may register it in Coventry and have the letters DU assigned him, though the letter for Devon is T. The letters LC have lately been introduced, and refer to London County.
Private motors use white letters on a black ground. Hired motors have a coloured ground, on which are not only the ordinary registration letters, but also some others which especially mark the man who lets out the cars. A. A. K.
Testout (10ᵗʰ S. iv. 69, 131).—The English
names Tait and Tate are probably derived
from teste or tête. We have also the name
Head. In this connexion may be recalled
the honoured name of Robert Grosseteste,
Bishop of Lincoln 1235-53. How should it
be pronounced? W. R. H.
Lamb's Panopticon (10ᵗʰ S. iv. 127, 215).—It
should be noted that there was a "Panopticon"
projected by one of the Pinchbecks in
Cockspur Street, which I have mentioned
in connexion with that thoroughfare, in the
last of my series of articles on 'Charing Cross
and its Neighbourhood' in The Gentleman's Magazine
(probably November). The handbill
and a long letter from Pinchbeck relating
to it may be seen in Mr. Mason's very
