Roselands lying nearest, received their attention first, but so greatly
were the well-remembered landmarks changed, that on arriving, they could
scarce believe themselves there.
Not one of the noble old trees, that had bordered the avenue and shaded
the lawn, was left standing; many lay prostrate upon the ground, while
others had been used for fuel. Of the house naught remained but a few feet
of stone wall, some charred, blackened beams, and a heap of ashes. The
gardens were a desert, the lawn was changed to a muddy field by the
tramping of many feet, and furrowed with deep ruts where the artillery had
passed and repassed; fences, hedge-rows, shrubbery--all had disappeared;
and the fields, once cultivated with great care, were overgrown with weeds
and nettles.
"We have lost our way! this cannot be the place!" cried Rose, as they
reined in their horses on the precise spot where Arthur and Walter had
taken their farewell look at home.
"Alas, alas, it is no other!" Mr. Travilla replied, in moved tones.
The hearts of Mr. Dinsmore and Elsie were too full for speech, and hot
tears were coursing down the cheeks of the latter.
Mr. Dinsmore pressed forward, and the others followed, slowly picking
their way through the ruins, grief swelling in their hearts at every step.
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