The gallant Colonel Charles Anderson, of the 93d Ohio, in a speech in Columbus, said:
"The South laugh at the little shams of the hour with which they agitate us; but their purpose is deep and dark. They mean to carry out their system of 'oligarchy' at whatever cost. Looking upon slavery as I now do, having seen it from every side, and knowing that the South intend the destruction of this Union—were I to stand before the congregated world, I would declare it—I will hew slavery from crest to hip, from hip to heel, and cut my way through white, black, and yellow—nerve, muscles, bone—tribes and races, to the Gulf of Mexico, to save the Union."
An Episode of the War — Laughable Incident — Old Mrs. Wiggles on Picket Duty — General Manson — God Bless the Soldiers — Negro's Pedigree of Abraham Lincoln — A Middle Tennessee Preacher — A Laconic Speech.
AN EPISODE OF THE WAR.
During the early part of the rebellion, when the rebels were in force on Munson's Hill, McClellan laid a plan to surround and capture them. This plan was only known to McClellan, General Scott, and Colonel Scott, a relation of the General, by marriage. As the troops started out at night, for their assault, a signal rocket went up from Washington. On their arrival at Munson's Hill, the bird had flown. McClellan, being informed of this, immediately called on General Scott, finding there Colonel Scott. He immediately said to the General: "The enemy have been warned of our movements by a rocket; they must have been so warned by one of us. Which is the traitor?" No answer was given. McClellan then called on the President, and mentioned the above facts, stating his conviction that Colonel Scott was the delinquent, and insisted upon his immediate imprisonment, or his banishment, or his own resignation. Then followed General Scott's resignation, then his journey to Paris, and the self-banishment of Colonel Scott.
A LAUGHABLE INCIDENT.
Considerable merriment and not a few immodest expressions were elicited at Washington, one day, by the action of the patrol, who perambulate the Avenue on horseback, a terror to all fast riders. On this occasion they made an onslaught upon the darkeys, who, for some time past, had luxuriated in the uniform of United States volunteers. How the articles of wearing apparel were obtained by the contrabands alluded to we have not inquired. The patrol rode up to each unfortunate "Sambo" that made his appearance, and proceeded to divest him of each of the articles enumerated, save where the bare necessity of the case would not admit of such a procedure. Caps, vests, and coats rapidly disappeared from "Sambo's" body, and were deposited in the street at the feet of the horses.
"Take off your breeches," we heard escape the lips of one of the patrol. The darkey grinned, then rolled his eyes, gazed at some ladies passing, and then, with an astonished countenance, looked up into the face of the patrol. "Massa," he said, "I aint got nuffin else on when I take dese off." This was something of a puzzle to the guard on horseback, and so, not wishing to shock the modesty of the street, "Sambo" was allowed to depart with his linen and trowsers.
OLD MRS. WIGGLES ON PICKET DUTY.
"As for sleeping on a picket," said Mrs. Wiggles to the three-months volunteer who had dropped in to see her, "I don't see how they can do it without hurting them. Sleeping on a post would be a good deal more sensible, unless there's a nail in it, which might be prejudicious for the uniform. Every one to his taste, and such things as where a man shall sleep is at his own auction; but nobody can help thinking that either a picket or a post is a very uncomfortable place to sleep on. At any rate, there isn't much room for more than one in a bed."
Brigadier-General Manson was in camp at Glenn's Fork, Pulaski County, eighteen miles from the scene of the Mill Spring battle, and, with his brigade, made a forced march that distance, over horrible midwinter roads, arriving just in time to engage honorably in the fight. The gallant 10th Indiana lost seventy-five men. Its colonel, commanding the brigade as above, is an officer of great bravery and ability. His conduct at the battle of Rich Mountain, in Western Virginia, as colonel of that regiment, and his experience in the war with Mexico, constitute a happy preface to his late brilliant achievement. This same 10th Indiana is fully up to the feat of rapid marches. At one time, being detailed to go to Greensburg from Campbellsville, to repel an anticipated attack of Secesh, the march was made by the Hoosier boys in three hours, a distance of twelve miles, eight of which was over a dirt-road that had had the advantage of a hard rain the night previous.
GOD BLESS THE SOLDIER.
A young and beautiful lady of Louisville (Minnie Myrtle) says; "God bless the soldier!" O, could we but look into the almost bursting heart of the rough-clad, tired soldier, as he plods his way, weary and worn, casting a glance, at intervals, to see one kind smile, to hear one kind and gentle voice to remind him of home, and the "loved ones" left far behind to the mercies of a cold and heartless world—could we but look into that fond heart and see the aching void, we would clasp that hand tenderly, and draw him gently to our homes, a welcome guest. O, did you but think, for a moment, of the sacrifice made by the ones you term "striplings," you would smother the thought before it rises to your pure lips, and your cheeks would burn with the sisterly blush, and your lips would breathe a prayer instead for the wanderer.
Come with me to yon snow-covered cabin. 'Tis a rude hut; but pause ere you enter, and behold the scene: An aged mother, bowed in deep and earnest prayer; and, as she prays for her jewels, a smile, not of sadness, but a settled calmness, gives place to one of extreme agony; her boys—she has but two, the pride of her declining years—both she gave, as did "Abraham of old," a living sacrifice upon the "altar of her country." Come with me to yonder habitation, not of wealth, but comfort. Hark! What shriek was that which rent the air? A widowed mother kneels beside the fatherless babe, and asks God in mercy to let the bitter cup pass from her. Another sacrifice to the dark and bloody ground! Pause, then, sisters, and give that thought not utterance. Your lips should breathe a prayer for the friendless soldier. If you have a brother, then love the soldier for your brother's sake; and if you have none, the honest-hearted soldier will be a brother and protector. But, O, for the love of God, speak kindly to the soldier.
A NEGRO'S PEDIGREE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
A full-blooded African, who was taken prisoner on the steamer Lewis, on which he is now employed as a cook, in the service of the United States, was encountered one evening by the surgeon of one of the naval ships, who asked him his name. "Nathaniel," replied the negro. "Any other name?" said the doctor; to which Sambo replied: "Why, de last name is always de massa's name—Massa Johnson." "What do the people say this war is about?" asked the doctor. Nat replied: "Why, sir, dey say that some man, called Linkum, is going to kill all de women an' de children, an' drive de massa away; and all de colored folks will be sold to Cuba." Nathaniel then proceeded to give some new and highly interesting particulars respecting the genealogy of the family of the Chief Magistrate of the United States. "Dey say his wife was a black woman, and dat his fadder and mudder come from Ireland," said he, speaking with emphasis. The doctor indignantly refuted the aspersions cast upon the family of the President, and disabused the mind of the negro of the false impressions which he had received from the Secessionists of the place.
One morning I accosted a contraband named Dick, who was employed in the fort. "Have you any other name?" said I. "Dey calls me Dick, de Major," was his answer. In reply to interrogatories, he gave an account of his life. "I was born in Virginny," said he, holding on the rim of a slouchy felt hat, and raising it at every inquiry. "Massa sold me, fore I was old 'nuff to know my mudder, to a preacher man in Florida. Bimeby massa die, and missus, she had a musical turn o' mind, and swapped me off for a fiddler; but de people all got de laf on de ole 'oman, for in two or free months the old fiddler died, and she lost us both," and the darkey laughed vehemently.
A MIDDLE TENNESSEE PREACHER.
A Secesh preacher, who was elected to a captaincy in the Home-Guards at Chattanooga, hearing they were likely to be called out, sent in the following note:
"dear curnel i beg to resind my commishen. Being a disciple of Krist i can not take up the sord."
A LACONIC SPEECH.
An amusing sword presentation took place one day in camp. The 78th Pennsylvania presented a sword to their colonel, William Sirwell. Captain Gillespie spoke as follows:
"Here we are, and here it is. This is a bully sword, and comes from bully boys; take it, and use it in a bully manner."
Colonel Sirwell replied:
"Captain, that was a bully speech. Let's all take a bully drink."
Union Men Scarce — How they are Dreaded — Incidents — The Wealthy Secessionists and Poor Union Widows — The John Morgans of Rebellion — A Contraband's Explanation of the Mystery — Accident at the South Tunnel — Impudence of the Rebels — A Pathetic Appeal, etc.
Camp near Gallatin, Tenn., November 20, 1862.
A trip from the tunnel to Gallatin, and back, is a good day's sport, for it behooves all to be on the alert, to avoid being captured by citizen guerrillas. A number of this brigade have already been "gobbled up," while out hunting luxuries at farm-houses. This became so frequent that the General in command issued an order prohibiting the boys from leaving camp without special permission.
Folks at home have frequently heard of the strong Union sentiment pervading Tennessee, but, "cuss me" if I haven't hunted in vain for the article during the past two weeks, and, with no exception whatever, save among the laboring class, have I found an out-and-out Union man. They answer with a "double meaning," when questioned, and are professed Union men while the army is here, and strong Secessionists when the rebel army can protect them.
The fact is, all the true Union men have been driven by the merciless foe into the woods—at any rate from their homes. Acts of the most fiendish barbarity have been committed, and the aiders and abettors are within a few miles of this camp, unmolested, enjoying the comforts of a home, while the true patriot, driven from his family to the hills of his native State, is
"Unsheltered by night, and unrested by day; The heath for his barracks—revenge for his pay."
An incident occurred in General Fry's division a few days since. Two of the 2d Minnesota Regiment, John A. Smith and Mr. Mervis, both of St. Paul, went out, by permission of their captain, in search of butter and eggs. They took two good horses with them, and although a week has passed, neither men nor horses have returned. The sequel proves that these men were captured by armed residents of this neighborhood, as yesterday a company were sent out for forage, and with them a number of servants were sent for eatables. Arriving at the house of 'Squire McMurray, a well-known Secessionist, who has two sons in the rebel army, the boys made inquiries of the servants in regard to their missing comrades, and found out they had been taken by a party of guerrillas from near this very house. The old scoundrel McMurray openly exulted over the fact, and thought it very comical to have the "Yankees" jerked up once in awhile. "It will teach them," said he, "to stay at home." The boys wanted to purchase some chickens and turkeys, but he refused to sell to "Yanks," swearing his turkeys were not fattened for "Down-easters." Mrs. McMurray hurriedly came out, and ordered all her black servants in the house, as she said she didn't want her niggers contaminated with "sich white trash."
About two hours after this conversation the brigade teams drove up, and soon drove off with ten loads of corn and oats, amounting to sixty dollars. 'Squire McMurray refused to receive a voucher offered by the Quarter-master, and said they were of no account to him—it was only a trick of the Abolition Government to rob the farmers; they had already sixty wagon-loads, and he guessed he could spare a few more. This man has a splendid farm, finely stocked with valuable imported Cashmere sheep, some of them worth from four to five hundred dollars apiece. This man is living in luxury, and upon ground that should be occupied by the poor and devoted families of those who, by his connivance, have been driven forth upon the world. Yet the great shield of the law—the law he has so basely violated, the Constitution he has, and yet does, openly defy—is made his safeguard. Is it at all astonishing our men weary of this favoritism, this premium upon traitors?
Let me tell your readers of what I was an eye-witness, a few evenings ago. You that have comfortable homes and warm firesides, with no war at your doors, can have but a faint idea of the horrors that are broadcast over this once happy country. A poor woman came to the commanding General of this brigade and begged for protection. She lived eight miles from this camp, and the rebels had threatened to burn her barn and house. Now, what do you think was this woman's offense? Her husband had joined the Union army at Nashville last August, and when, a few days afterward, he returned to arrange his family affairs, the "guerillas" found out his return, and five of the incarnate fiends walked into his house, and while he was seated at the table, partaking of his breakfast, these men shot him—there, in the presence of his wife and six children, these fiends, that our worthy President deliberately "commutes," murdered their only protector; and now, not satisfied with their former atrocity, they return to drive the poor widow and her children from the desolate little homestead!
O! if there is one hell deeper than another, please, God, send these wretches, who would persecute a poor woman thus, to it!
The General, upon hearing the story of her troubles, sent out two companies of the 2d Minnesota Regiment to guard and bring into camp her children, and what few chattels were left. Company A, under Captain Barnes, and Company G, under Captain Keifer, were assigned to perform this act of deserved charity.
It was ten o'clock at night, cold and windy, the rain penetrating to the very bones, and dark as Egypt, when the two companies returned with Mrs. Crane and her six children. One rickety wagon, a mangy old horse, a cow, some bedding, and a few cooking utensils, were the trophies of the trip. These things told a tale of poverty, but they were all the poor widow of the murdered soldier possessed.
The children were all barefooted, and most scantily attired; the little ones shivered with the cold, and the older ones wrapped their tattered garments closer as the wind played rudely with them. A little four-year-old boy eyed the soldiers with a side glance, and clung to his mother, as she held her infant to her breast.
If I were to decide what to do in such a case, I would quickly turn out Mr. 'Squire McMurray, and let Mrs. Crane and her little ones possess the well-stocked farm. To-day the General is endeavoring to get transportation to Indiana for this family, at the expense of the Government.
An old negro resident near this camp, in conversation, a few days since, said to me:
"Look-a-heah! all you white folks, when any debbeltry is done, allers lay it to Massa John Morgan."
"Well," said I, "don't he do a large share of it?"
"Yes, he does do a heap; but, Lor bress you, massa, gib de debble his due; he don't do de half what de white folks say. You see dat tunnel, don't you?" said he, rolling the white of his eyes to the obliteration of all sight of the pupil.
"Yes, I see it," I replied.
"Well, sah! Massa Morgan had no more to do wid dat tunnel dan you do yourself. Morgan warnt no way nigh dis place when dat was done; de folks what lib all round here was de Morganses what do dat work; why, dey done toted rails for free days, and packed 'em in dat tunnel, and we darkeys had to help 'em, and den dey set 'em on fire, and sich a cracklin' as you nebber heard, and in less dan a week ebbery body all over de country was a-tellin' about how as John Morgan burnt de tunnel."
IMPUDENCE OF THE REBELS.
"Here, sir, I've got an order for you," said an acknowledged well-known rebel citizen, as he entered the head-quarters of the General commanding the Third Brigade of the First Division of the Ohio. From the pompous manner of the Tennesseean, the General didn't know, for a moment, but that he was about being ordered under arrest by the citizen. The General merely replied in his usual style:
"The hell you have, sir! Who is it from?"
"From General Fry, sir."
"Ah! let me see it."
The order was produced. It requested the General not to allow too much of any one man's stock of corn to be taken. The General read the request, and instantly inquired of the Tennesseean: "Are you a Union man?" and as instantly received the reply of "No, sir, I am not."
"Then, G——d d——n you, sir, how dare you have the impudence to come within my lines?"
The Tennesseean, seeing he had a man of the pure grit to deal with, shook slightly in his boots, and did not put on so much "style," and was about to explain something, when the General interrupted him with a quick order to leave forthwith, or he would have a dozen bayonets in his rear "d——n quick."
"But, General, how shall I get out of camp? Won't you please give me a pass?"
"Me give a pass to a rebel! No, sir. How did you get within my lines?"
"Why, sir, I just walked straight in."
"Well, sir, you can just walk straight out, and if ever I see you inside my lines again, I'll have you sent where you belong; and, after this, when you have any 'order' for me, if it is from General Halleck, 'or any other man,' don't you dare to bring it, but send it in to me, or you will rue the day."
A PATHETIC APPEAL.
I found the following "pathetic" appeal from the women of New Orleans. It was laid carefully by, with a lock of hair, bearing the inscription, "To Mary Looker, from her cousin Jane. Please send this appeal to all our male friends around Gallatin."
"AN APPEAL FROM THE WOMEN OF NEW ORLEANS.
"To every Soldier:
"We turn to you in mute agony! Behold our wrongs, fathers! husbands! brothers! sons! We know these bitter, burning wrongs will be fully avenged. Never did Southern women appeal in vain for protection from insult! But, for the sakes of our sisters throughout the South, with tears we implore you not to surrender your cities, 'in consideration of the defenseless women and children.' Do not leave your women to the merciless foe! Would it not have been better for New Orleans to have been laid in ruins, and we buried beneath the mass, than subjected to these untold sufferings? Is life so priceless a boon that, for the preservation of it, no sacrifice is too great? Ah, no! ah, no! Rather let us die with you! O, our fathers! rather, like Virginius, plunge your own swords into our breasts, saying, 'This is all we can give our daughters.'
"The Daughters of the South.
"New Orleans, May 14, 1862."
A Friendly Visit for Corn into an Egyptian Country — Ohio Regiments — "Corn or Blood" — "Fanny Battles" — The Constitution Busted in Several Places — Edicts against Dinner Horns, by Colonel Brownlow's Cavalry — A Signal Station Burned — Two Rebel Aids Captured.
Camp at Triune, Tennessee, April 26, 1863.
Last Thursday was a "gay day" for a portion of the Third Division. General Schofield, thinking it requisite to lay in a good supply of provender, ordered out one hundred and fifty wagons, to go on an errand of mercy to our benighted "brethren of the South," and borrow of them some corn, oats, and fodder, for Federal horses. Well, as it is a recognized breach of etiquette to send such a train without escort, therefore, the General sent a retinue, consisting of the 35th Ohio, under Colonel Long; 9th Ohio, Colonel Josephs; 17th Ohio, Colonel Durbin Ward; 31st Ohio, Colonel Phelps; also, the 87th Indiana, Colonel Shyrock; and the 2d Minnesota, under Colonel George; together with two pieces belonging to the 4th Regular Battery, under Lieutenants Rodney and Stevenson. We went forward with the determination of obtaining food—"peacefully, if we could; forcibly, if we must;" but we had to use the rebel women's motto, lately made public in Richmond, "Food or Blood." Our new commander accompanied the expedition. We started, after partaking of an early breakfast, and crossed Harpeth River about nine o'clock. I had forgotten to mention that the 1st East Tennessee Cavalry were along: the rebels haven't forgotten it, however, as they were ordered to the front, and, as I am fond of seeing them "go in," I was appointed chief aid and bottle-holder to the command under Majors Burkhardt and Tracy, and had a splendid opportunity of seeing the "Secession elephant." After passing through the town of College Grove, we commenced feeling our way carefully, as we wished to make our visit a sort of "surprise party" to the "brethren in arms;" as a matter of course, this was only the "by-play," for while the Tennessee boys were unloading their muskets, the teamsters were loading corn and oats from Secesh cribs. They are excellent cribbage-players by this time.
As our cavalry advanced, the rebel cavalry fell back, declining to hold any communication. Major Tracy and "ye correspondent" went off the main road, in pursuit of knowledge, and came upon half a dozen negroes working in a field. The Major introduced "ye innocent lamb" as General Morgan, and demanded of the darkeys if any d——d Yankees had been about there lately. The darkeys replied very evasively; would not say a word that would injure the cause of the Union forces; denied all knowledge of them or their whereabouts. There were some two or three hundred fat sheep on the farm, and a good lot of cattle. I suggested the propriety of driving them within our lines, but was astonished when the Major told me it was "against orders" to do so. All the males of the family who owned the negroes and other cattle were in the rebel army—the master and two sons. While talking there, we heard firing, and so started for the fun, and soon came upon some of the "gentry," yclept "butternuts." The Major had about twelve men in the lead; a few others, with the colors, remaining a quarter of a mile to the rear—the regiment a mile in rear of the advance. When we arrived at what is known as Tippets's farm, the rebels, who were sheltered by Wilson's house, poured a volley down the road, and without inquiring the cause of such unkind treatment, on their part, this "individual" retired some twenty yards. I have before heard the sound of the Enfield-rifle ball, and have heard many persons say, 'tis "quite musical;" but "I can't see it." The boys advanced in the most daring manner on the open road, while the valiant and "noble chivalry" of Alabama kept continually retreating. In order to obtain a better view of the fight, and watch the maneuvers of the combatants, I went upon the side-hill of an open field to the left of the road, and while quietly looking on, three rebs came out from behind Wilson's house, and, without as much as saying, "By your leave," they blazed away at me. Isn't it a shame that these fellows should act so? Why, they "busted the Constitution all to the devil," in firing at me. The Major kindly rode up and told me, in his usual bland and benign style, that I was a d——n fool; that "them fellers was a-shootin' at me." I merely replied that I guessed he was mistaken, as I saw the bullets plowing the field some twenty yards in front of me. While this conversation was going on between the Major and myself, the rebels reloaded their guns and gave us another trial of their skill, and settled the dispute at once, as I had asseverated; their bullets would not reach that distance. The Major was right, for a little while the nastiest shriek I ever heard came from that volley. The Major's horse didn't like it much, and cavorted like the "fiery, untamed steed" ridden by the fair "Adah Isaacs." Then we changed our base: we went toward the chaps, and, when they would get ready to fire, put spurs to our horses and ran from them. This so delighted the "rebs," that we gratified them with two or three trials, and every time we ran, they shouted and said bad words. After placing five men in ambush, we retired, as if leaving the field, and as the traitors were advancing directly into the trap of three hours' hard setting, the Wilson family came to the door and told them to go back, as the "Yankees" were in the orchard there by Tippets's house. The men were then within two hundred yards of the ambush, and, upon being so informed, hastily wheeled their horses and left on a double-quick. This act on the part of a citizen rebel so exasperated the men that Wilson was given one hour to get out of the house with his furniture, as all houses used for military purposes, signal stations, etc., would meet with destruction.
While the house was burning, the women boasted they had warned them, and would do it again. One virago-looking Secesh asseverated, in a voice of unearthly screechiness, that they had lots of "Southern friends, and millions of money."
The citizens along the road will learn a lesson by this occurrence. It will teach them not to make signal stations of their houses.
BLOWING HORNS UNCONSTITUTIONAL.
Another source of annoyance to our men was the frequent blasts upon dinner-horns. These "quiet, peaceful" citizens, as our men advanced, gave the enemy information by this blasted method. Upon being questioned as to the "cause why" they did so much blowing, they replied, "They were calling in the boys from the field, for fear they would get shot;" and Mrs. Tippets said, "'T was near dinner-time." One of the men said he would like something to eat, and went in the house, but no sign of dinner preparation could be seen. Major Tracy took the horn from Mrs. Tippets, at which the lady (?) protested most violently; said there "was no reason in that man," and asked me, "if it wasn't agin the Constitution for that feller to take that horn."
I told her, in a pacific manner, that that was nothing; Tracy took from ten to fifteen horns a day. She didn't see the joke, and I became disgusted with her want of penetration, and left.
Mr. Wilson and a man who was in his employ were brought into camp as prisoners. Mr. Wilson protested he didn't tell the States-rights men any thing, and held that he "couldn't hender the women talkin'."
About four o'clock we commenced a retrograde movement for the "old camp," and soon caught up with the big train, filled with all the delicacies of the season, for the brute portion of our division.
The Miss Fanny Battles who is now so sweetly sojourning in the Seminary at Columbus, Ohio, under the guardianship of "Uncle Samuel," was a resident of this county. Our troops were encamped upon the Battles farm for a month. Miss Battles was very industrious in circulating about the country. When she was taken, she had her drawers stuffed with letters, and was trying to steal through our picket-lines. The Secretary of State, or those connected with the bureaus, will, we hope, see that there are no more such drawers allowed within the lines.
At the house of a Mr. Bolerjack are the wounded men belonging to the 1st Tennessee Cavalry. I called there yesterday, and, in conversation with Mr. B., he expressed surprise at what he termed the difference between our wounded and the rebel wounded. He said that he had a house full of Secesh at one time, but that they kept moaning and groaning all night and day, and kept his family busy, while our men have never muttered, but, on the contrary, are always cheerful, and only anxious to get back in their saddles.
Reward for a Master — Turning the Tables — Dan Boss and his Adventure — Major Pic Russell — A Visit to the Outposts with General Jeff C. Davis — Rebel Witticisms — Hight Igo, ye Eccentric Quarter-master — Fling Out to the Breeze, Boys.
REWARD FOR A MASTER—TURNING THE TABLES.
The darkeys of Secession masters fairly flocked into camp on many occasions. When near Lebanon, Ky., a bright darkey, very witty, kept the camp alive with his humor. During the day some Kentuckians had posted up in camp an advertisement: "One Hundred Dollars Reward. Ran away from the subscriber, my man Bob," etc. Jim Duncan, the darkey I have referred to, soon after issued the following, and posted it beside the other:
Fifty Cents Reward.—Ran away from dis chile, an' leff him all alone to take care of his-seff, after I done worked twenty-six years for him faithfully, my massa, "BILL DUNCAN." Massa Bill is supposed to have gone off wid de Secesh for to hunt for his rights; and I 'spect he done got lost. Any pusson 'turnin' him to dis chile, so dat he can take keer ob me, (as he allers said niggers couldn't take keer demselves,) will be much oblige to dis chile.
N. B.—Pussons huntin' for him will please look in all de "lass ditches," as I offen heern him tellin' about dyin' dar.
The poster created a great deal of merriment in camp, while the residents thought Jim a very sassy nigger.
DAN BOSS AND HIS ADVENTURE.
All railroad men know Dan Boss, of the Pittsburg, Fort Wayne, and Chicago Railroad. Dan was in Louisville, on Government business, during the raid, with a lot of cars. Dan thought he would ride out a few miles on the Bardstown pike one fine afternoon, with a friend, and for this purpose hired a fine horse and buggy. Dan went out gaily, and in fine spirits, jokingly observing he was about to reconnoiter. Only ten miles from the city Dan was captured. The rebels demanded a surrender of all his personal effects, which consisted of a rare lot of old passes over all the railroads in the United States, several "bottles," etc. Dan told them he was all right on the goose, and they told him to turn round and go back; upon which Dan was delighted, thinking he had deceived them, when he was accosted by several more of the gang, who wanted to try the speed of Dan's horse. Dan begged for the horse; said it wasn't his, to which the rebs replied, "Well! as it is not 'yourn,' why, we'll take care of it," and then drove off, leaving Dan and his friend to foot it home.
MAJOR PIC RUSSELL
Says that, on the march to Louisville from Huntsville, Ala., he met hundreds of stragglers from Bragg's army. One tall specimen of Secesh, going back to his Southern home, the Major halted.
"Hallo!" said the Major, "where are you going?"
The fellow looked at the Major very intently, and replied, "Home, sir."
"Where do you live?" inquired Russell.
"Lewis County, Alabama!"
"Why," said the Major, "you don't think you will ever be able to walk all that distance, do you?"
"Well, I do," was his response. "I tell you, Major, I wouldn't take five hundred dollars for my chance."
The distance to his home was over seven hundred miles, through Kentucky, Tennessee, and Northern Alabama.
The Major told me it was a common sight to see them trudging along, singing merrily, no doubt thinking of "Home, sweet home."
A VISIT TO THE OUTPOSTS WITH GEN. JEFF C. DAVIS.
General Davis I found an active, intelligent gentleman, with an eye denoting great determination, and very pleasing in his conversational powers; always on the alert, leaving nothing to subordinates that he could do himself. The General's division commanded the Shelbyville pike. I spent two nights with Colonel Heg, who had a brigade occupying the most dangerous position. The 25th Illinois and 8th Kansas were in his brigade.
Colonel Heg's regiment is mostly composed of Norwegians, or Scandinavians. They are generally from, and are known as the 15th Wisconsin; are a splendid body of well-disciplined men, and all speak our language fluently. I heard an amusing anecdote of one of their captains, who, a short time since, took a lot of rebel prisoners. As this Norwegian captain had them drawn up in line, he said to them, in broken English, and in accent very like the German: "Say, you fellers, you putternuts, I vant you all to schwear a leetle. It do you goot to schwear mit de Constitution. I schwear him tree year ago; now you schwear him. Now, recollect, you schwear him goot; no d——n nonsense. You schwear him, and keep him down, and not puke him up again!"
The 24th Illinois are close at hand, also the 8th Kansas. These boys are in view of the rebels every day.
There is in the 24th Illinois Regiment a very clever officer who has an intolerably red nose. He says he can't "help it;" he strives to temper it, but it is no go. A friend inquired of him, how much it cost to color it out here; his reply was, "$2.50 a canteen."
The "rebs" played quite a trick upon the chaplain of the 24th Illinois. After they received his papers, they refused to send any in return. This would have been termed a nasty Yankee trick, had any of our boys committed such a breach of faith with them. But such is Southern honor.
The following is copied from the Chattanooga Rebel:
If it is true that General Marmaduke hung the regiment of armed negroes at Helena, he certainly made a center shot at old Abe's emancipation-insurrection scheme; for he "knocked the black out" every time he hung a darkey.
We do not know for certain that the price of negroes is going up; but there must have been a slight advance upon a regiment of them at Helena, the other day, if the wires were correct.
Grant's permitting his dead soldiers to decay and create a stench around Vicksburg presents the worst feature of the Yankee die-nasty we have yet had to chronicle.
Richmond papers announce that Hooker has again, "changed his base." He took it out of the saddle awhile ago, to go and tell old Abe "how the thing was did."
The soil of the South is becoming so fertilized with. Yankee bodies, that we will be able to raise nothing but wooden nutmegs after the war.
The "typos" of the Rebel suggest the necessity of the immediate return of Vallandigham, and our finishing up the Yankee raid on Vicksburg. Both exciting subjects cause too heavy a "run" on the capital "V" box.
The Yankee officers who lead armed negroes against the Southern people will have "a high old time," for our boys will certainly hang them "as high as Haman."
The Chicago Tribune says: "There are already twenty thousand colored troops in the Federal army." Does he mean the blue-bellied ones, or the black ones?
"Breakers ahead" for Yankee merchantmen! The Alabama and Florida! If they are not breakers to the ships, they will soon break all the ship-owners.
The Yankee corpses lying around Vicksburg are becoming fetid as fast as the living ones are becoming de-feated.
HIGHT IGO, YE ECCENTRIC QUARTER-MASTER.
Everybody in the Third Division of Crittenden's corps knows the Quarter-master of the 35th Indiana, Hight Igo; in fact, his fame is not confined to General Van Cleve's division. No, sir! not by any means! His eccentricities are the theme of conversation from Triune to Stone River, from "Kripple Kreek" to Nashville.
His first introduction to the favorable notice of high military authority occurred at Louisville. Shortly after the gallant 35th came into service, he stopped General Wood one day in the streets of Louisville, to inquire upon the subject of "yarn socks." The General informed him he never transacted business on the street, and suggested the propriety of calling at head-quarters. A short time after this the General met Igo on the street, and having heard something queer about Igo's forage account, requested information in regard thereto. Igo coolly remarked: "General, I never transact business on the street. You will please call at my quarters, when I shall be happy to afford you an insight into my affairs."
The next day a couple of the General's staff-officers called upon the incorrigible Igo, to investigate matters, and they investigated "in a horn." Igo remarked that, if they had waited until next morning to make their report, things would have worked; but they foolishly went into the presence of the General immediately upon their arrival; and when they reported "Quar-hic-termaster Igo's busi-ness all-hic-sound," the General "couldn't see it," and dispatched another officer, who could resist the blandishments of whisky-punch long enough to conduct the investigation.
The result of this move was a rather tart request—from the Quarter-master-General's Department—for Lieutenant Igo to send all the papers belonging to his department to Washington, for adjustment; a request which our friend complied with by heading up vouchers, receipts, requisitions, etc., in an ammunition-keg, with a letter stating that, inasmuch as the Department had a great many more clerks at its command than he had, and were probably better acquainted with the "biz" of making out quarterly reports or returns, they might be able to understand how things stood between him and the Government; confessing, at the same time, that he "couldn't make head or tail out of the blasted figures." In due course of mail Igo received a communication from the Department, informing him that if he did not immediately send in his report for the quarter ending on the 31st of October, he would find himself in Washington, under arrest. To this Igo answered thus:
Sir—Yours of — date received. Contents noted. I have long been desirous of visiting the city of "magnificent distances," but have not hitherto been able to realize sufficient funds at any one time to gratify that desire; I therefore gratefully avail myself of your obliging offer to defray the expenses of my journey, and most respectfully suggest the propriety of your "going on with your rat-killing." I am, sir, your obedient servant,
Lieutenant and A. A. Q. M., 35th Ind. Vols.
This closed Igo's official correspondence with the Department at Washington. He had the "good luck" to be captured by Morgan last fall, and, of course, Morgan destroyed all his papers. That struck a balance for him for the quarter ending last October. He had another stroke of good fortune at Stone River, on the 1st of January, in having a wagon captured. Of course, all his papers were in that identical wagon. He was very indignant that a battle did not take place about the last of March, as that would have saved him a heap of trouble. Do not think, however, that our Quarter-master has done any thing that will not bear investigation, for a more honest or conscientious man is not to be found in the Quarter-master's Department; but Igo has a holy horror of vouchers and invoices, and receipts all in triplicate; and small blame to him for it.
FLING OUT TO THE BREEZE, BOYS!
Dedicated to the Second Brigade, Second Division, M'cook's Corps.
By W. A. OGDEN.
Fling out to the breeze, boys, That old starry flag— Let it float as in days famed in story; For millions of stout hearts And bayonets wait, To clear its old pathway to glory.
When the first wail of war That was heard on our shore Re-echoed with fierce promulgation, Columbia's brave sons Then rallied and fought, In defense of our glorious nation.
From East, West, North, and South, Their numbers did pour, Alike seemed their courage and daring; While boldly they stood, As the fierce battle raged, Each nobly the proud contest sharing.
Those patriots have passed— They now sleep 'neath the sod; But their flag shall be our flag forever! We'll boldly march forward, And strike to the earth The fiends who it from us would sever.
Hark! hark! from the South Comes a sound, deep and shrill— 'Tis the sound of the cannon's deep rattle! Up! forward! brave boys, And beat back with a will The foe from the red field of battle.
We'll rally and rally, And rally again, To our standard now pennoned and flying; And we swear, 'neath its bright folds Of crimson and gold, To own it, though living or dying.
Then fling to the breeze, boys, That dear, blood-bought flag— It must float as in days famed in story; For millions of stout hearts And bayonets wait, To clear its old pathway to glory.
Defense of the Conduct of the German Regiments at Hartsville — To the Memory of Captain W. Y. Gholson — Colonel Toland vs. Contraband Whisky.
Camp near Gallatin, Tenn., December 14, 1862.
After a careful investigation of the facts relative to the late fight at Hartsville, having visited the battle-field, and having conversed with numerous officers and privates who were wounded in that engagement, I am satisfied that gross injustice has been done the noble raw recruits of the 106th and 108th Ohio Regiments. I am not biased in the least on account of their being Cincinnati men, although I confess to a city pride; and I feel the greatest satisfaction in telling you that those regiments acted in the most heroic manner. That a few acted cowardly and shirked their duty, there is no doubt; but that the entire regiments should bear the blame is very hard.
I notice the Louisville Journal is particularly severe on the men and officers; and, also, that W. D. B. "pitches in," and terms them "Scott's Cowardly Brigade."
W. D. B. goes into minutiae in regard to Scott, who, he says, commanded. He is entirely mistaken. Scott, finding the place a dangerous one, requested, a week previously, to be allowed to rejoin his regiment, and his request was granted. The Scott who had command, and was relieved, belonged to Turchin's old regiment, and was their Lieutenant-Colonel. Scott told Colonel Moore of the dangers of the post, and Colonel Moore, feeling his weakness, protested against being left there. The fault lies beyond these new regiments.
Why were three regiments of raw recruits placed in such a dangerous position, with but two guns and a handful of cavalry? As soon as the fight began, a courier was sent to Castilian Springs, a distance of only five miles, for reinforcements. The brigade was sent, but arrived too late. Instead of marching by column, on a double-quick, these men were deployed as skirmishers. The 106th and 108th Ohio and 104th Illinois held the ground for full two hours, until completely surrounded and driven to the brink of the river, where another large force of rebels awaited them. Yet these undisciplined men are called cowards—these men, who bravely held the ground, against odds of three to one, against the disciplined rebels belonging to the 2d and 9th Kentucky, and under the immediate command of Morgan! Yet these men are to bear the disgrace and receive the anathemas of the press, in order to shield some imbecile officer!
I paid a visit to the hospital to-day, and I tell you it was a pitiable sight to see a large room crowded with the gallant wounded. They told me they didn't care for the wounds, but to be so maligned was more than they could bear. One noble fellow read the remarks of the Louisville Journal, and the big tears rolled down his manly cheek, as he made the remark to me, "GOOD GOD! is that all the thanks we get for fighting as we did?"
Newspapers may publish what they please, but here is a fact that speaks loud in praise of the daring Ohio boys, and proves that the 106th and 108th fought well: it is, that Company G, of the 106th, lost every commissioned officer, two sergeants, one corporal, and twelve privates.
Colonel Moore, Lieutenant-Colonel Hapeman, and Major Wiedman refused to be paroled.
Lieutenant Gessert, of the 106th, tells me he was present, a week since, when a colored boy came to Lieutenant Szabo, of the 106th, who was on picket. The boy stated that he overheard Morgan tell his master he was laying a plan to "capture them d——d Cincinnati Dutch within three days." The boy was sent to head-quarters, where he repeated his story, but no notice was taken of it.
To-day, Dr. Dyer, surgeon of the 104th Illinois, who went over the field directly after the fight, and assisted in dressing the wounds of our men, handed me a green seal ring belonging to Adjutant Gholson. The rebels had stripped the body of boots, coat and hat, and, fearing this ring would be taken, the Doctor placed it in his pocket.
The Doctor says a rebel captain took a fancy to his (the Doctor's) hat, and insisted upon buying it—swore he would shoot him if he didn't sell it; and told him he went in for raising the black flag on the d——d Yankees.
The Doctor quietly went on with his work, attending to the wounded, while the rebel captain was robbing the dead.
I telegraphed you in regard to Adjutant Gholson's death. He died heroically leading his command. His praise is upon every tongue. I will send his body home on to-day's train.
The lines following are a touching tribute to the memory of one of the noblest young men sacrificed in the war. Captain Gholson was a brave, earnest, talented, honorable man, in whose death his many friends feel a sorrowing pride:
TO THE MEMORY OF CAPTAIN W. Y. GHOLSON.
'Neath Western skies I'm dreaming, This drear December morn, Of joys forever vanished, Of friendships rudely torn;
Of the friend so lately taken From the heartless world away; Of the well-beloved warrior Now sleeping 'neath the clay.
The links of youthful friendship, Unsullied kept through years, Grim Death hath rudely shattered— Ay, dimmed by Memory's tears.
Thou wilt be missed sincerely By the well-remembered band, Who've proved, through endless changes, United heart and hand.
Thy mother's pain and anguish Through life will never cease; The grief she's now enduring No earthly power can ease.
A father mourns the idol Which God hath taken home, Hath borne to sunnier regions, Where guardian spirits roam.
And for the grieving sister, Whose joyous days are o'er, There cometh gleams of sunshine From yonder golden shore.
From the throne of God eternal, Where the angel roameth free, He speaketh words of music To parents dear, and thee.
To friends and weeping kindred He speaketh words of cheer: "Be ye prepared to meet me, Prepared to meet me here."
Lizzie A. F.
COLONEL TOLAND vs. CONTRABAND WHISKY.
"Volunteer" told me a good story of one of the gallant 34th Ohio and Colonel Toland.
During their stay at Barboursville, the Colonel noticed, one day, an extraordinary number of intoxicated soldiers in camp. Where they obtained their whisky was a mystery to the command. The orders were very strict in regard to its prohibition. After considerable effort, the Colonel succeeded in finding out the guilty party. The culprit had a little log hut on the banks of the Guyandotte River, and was dealing it out with a profuseness entirely unwarranted. The Colonel sent his orderly for Corporal Minshall, of Company G. On his arrival, the Colonel said:
"Corporal, you will take ten men, sir, and go to the whisky-cabin on the banks of the Guyandotte, seize all the whisky you find, and pour it out."
"All right," said the Corporal; "your order will be obeyed forthwith."
The Corporal got his men together, and ordered them to string all the canteens they could find around their necks. On arriving at the cabin, they seized upon and "poured out" the whisky. After a thorough loading-up, the Corporal returned and reported at head-quarters.
"You poured it out, did you?" inquired the Colonel.
"Yes, sir," categorically replied the Corporal.
The Colonel noticed a canteen about the Corporal's neck, and thought he smelled something, and, looking him steadily in the face, repeated:
"You poured it out, sir, did you?"
"Yes, sir," emphatically replied the Corporal.
"And where did you pour it, sir?"
"In our canteens, Colonel," he replied.
For a moment his eyes flashed with anger; but, on second thought, the joke struck him as being too good, and the pleasant smile so characteristic of the Colonel wreathed his face in a moment.
"Well, Corporal," continued he, "I suppose that is some of the 'poured-out' in your canteen, eh?"
"Yes, sir," he replied, with the utmost sang froid, and, at the same time, gracefully disengaging the strap from his neck, said, "Won't you try some, Colonel?"
"I don't care if I do," said the Colonel; whereupon he imbibed, saying, as he lowered the vessel, "Not a bad article—not a bad article; but, Corporal, next time I send you to pour out whisky I will tell you where to pour it."
War and Romance — Colonel Fred Jones — Hanging in the Army — General A. J. Smith vs. Dirty Guns.
WAR AND ROMANCE.
During the late movement against Vicksburg the national transports were fired upon by a rebel battery at Skipwith Landing, not many miles from the mouth of the Yazoo. No sooner was the outrage reported at head-quarters than the Admiral sent an expedition to remove the battery and destroy the place. The work of destruction was effectually done; not a structure which could shelter a rebel head was left standing in the region for several miles around.
Among other habitations destroyed was that of a Mrs. Harris, a widow lady, young, comely, and possessed of external attractions in the shape of a hundred and fifty "negroes," which she had contrived to save from the present operation of "the decree," by sending them up the Yazoo River. But Mrs. Harris was a rebel—intense, red-hot in her advocacy of Southern rights and her denunciation of Northern wrongs. Although she had not taken up arms against the Government, she was none the less subject to the indiscriminating swoop of the Proclamation; her niggers, according to that document, were free, and if the Confederacy failed, she could only get pay for them by establishing her loyalty in a court of justice. Her loyalty to the Yankee nation?—not she! She was spunky as a widow of thirty can be. She would see Old Abe, and every other Yankee, in the happy land of Canaan before she would acknowledge allegiance to the Washington Government. Nevertheless, being all she possessed of this world's valuables, she would like to save those niggers.
"Nothing easier," suggested Captain Edward W. Sutherland, of the United States steam-ram Queen of the West, who, attracted by her snapping black eyes, engaged in a friendly conversation with the lady after burning her house down. "Nothing easier in the world, madam."
"How so, Captain? You don't imagine I will take that odious oath, do you? I assure you I would not do it for every nigger in the South."
"But you need not take that oath, madam—at least not the oath."
"I do not understand you, Captain," said the widow, thoughtfully.
"I said you need not take the oath of allegiance; you can establish your loyalty without it—at least," with a respectful bow, "I can establish it for you."
"Indeed! How would you do it, Captain?"
"Simply enough. I am in the Government service; I command one of the boats of the Western navy—technically denominated a ram, madam—down here in the river. Of course, my loyalty is unimpeached, and, madam, I assure you it is unimpeachable. Now, if I could only say to the Government, those niggers are mine"——
The Captain waited a moment, to see what effect his speech was producing.
"Well!" said the widow, impatiently tapping with her well-shaped foot one of the smoking timbers of her late domicile.
"In short, my dear madam, you can save the niggers, save your conscientious scruples, and save me from a future life of misery, by becoming my wife!"
The Captain looked about wildly, as if he expected a sudden attack from guerrillas. The widow tapped the smoldering timber more violently for a few minutes, and then, turning her bright eyes full upon the Captain, said:
"I'll do it!"
The next arrival at Cairo from Vicksburg brought the intelligence that Captain Sutherland, of the ram Queen of the West, was married, a few days since, on board the gunboat Tylor, to Mrs. Harris, of Skipwith Landing. Several officers of the army and navy were present to witness the ceremony, which was performed by a Methodist clergyman, and Admiral Porter gave away the blushing bride. She is represented to be a woman of indomitable pluck, and, for the present, shares the life of her husband, on the ram Queen of the West.
COLONEL FRED JONES.
I was with him on his last trip from Cincinnati to Louisville, and from thence to the army. Little did I think it was the last meeting. Noble Fred! He has left a name that will never be erased from honor's scroll. A writer in the Cincinnati Commercial, who knew him from boyhood up, says:
"He is a native of this city, and favorably known as one of our most brilliant young men.
"Colonel Jones was a graduate of Woodward High School, of this city, receiving his diploma, with the highest honor of his class, in 1853. He then entered the law-office of Rufus King, Esq. as a student, and evinced, in the pursuit of a legal education, a remarkable zeal and talent. Two years ago he was elected Prosecuting-Attorney of the Police Court, which office he held at the breaking out of the war, in 1861. It was but a few days after the first call for troops, when he threw his business into the hands of a brother lawyer, and became a soldier. He was first an adjutant to General Bates, but, in June, 1861, he received a lieutenant-colonel's commission in the 31st Ohio, with which he went into active service. He was afterward transferred, with the same rank, to the 24th Ohio, of which regiment he became colonel in May last.
"He distinguished himself at the Battle of Shiloh, to which, indeed, he owed his promotion. He enjoyed the highest reputation with his superiors as an officer.
"Colonel Jones was about twenty-seven years of age, of fine appearance, with a peculiarly happy manner and disposition. He was a very fine extempore orator, and possessed great military ardor from childhood. The writer, a fellow-student, remembers him as captain of a company of school-boys, at Woodward, which, drilling for pastime, became very proficient in tactics.
"We can pay no more eloquent tribute to his memory than the mute impression his history will impart. He is dead! Our city has offered no heavier sacrifice in any of her sons, and parted with no purer of the jewels which have been so rudely torn from her."
HANGING IN THE ARMY.
Head-quarters 3d Division, 14th Army Corps, Murfreesboro, June 6, 1863.
William A. Selkirk, who resided in an adjoining county, murdered, in a most brutal manner, a man by the name of Adam Weaver. Selkirk was a member of a roving band of guerrillas. He entered, with others, the house of Weaver, who was known to have money, and demanded its surrender. Weaver, not complying, was seized, his ears cut off, his tongue torn out, and he was then stabbed. These facts being proved to the court, Selkirk was condemned to death.
At twelve o'clock, yesterday, the crowd commenced congregating at the Court-house, eyeing with curiosity a large, uncovered ambulance, in which was built a platform. The trap was a leaf, acting as a sort of tailboard to the wagon. This trap, or leaf, was supported by a strip of wood that ran into a notch, similar to the old figure-four trap. Attached to the ambulance were six splendid horses. At one o'clock two regiments of infantry, under Colonel Stoughton, arrived upon the ground and formed in line. The ambulance and military then moved along to the jail; the rough wooden coffin was placed in the vehicle, and the prisoner then, for the first time, made his appearance. He had a pale and care-worn look, and a decidedly Southern air. His step was firm, and he got into the wagon with but little assistance. He was accompanied by Father Cony, chaplain of the 35th Indiana. The procession then moved off toward the gallows, erected a short distance from the town, upon the Woodbury pike. The eager crowd thronged the avenues leading to the place of execution—rushing, crushing, cursing and swearing, laughing and yelling. Samuel Lover, the Irish poet, describes, in his poem of "Shamus O'Brien," a hanging, thus:
"And fasther and fasther the crowd gathered there, Boys, horses, and gingerbread, just like a fair; And whisky was sellin', and 'cosamuck' too, And old men and young women enjoying the view; And thousands were gathered there, if there was one, Waiting till such time as the hanging would come."
The morbid appetite depicted upon that sea of upturned faces was terrible to think of.
By the kindness of Colonel Stoughton, I was given a very prominent place in the procession.
General Order No. 123, from head-quarters, was read. The prisoner then knelt, and was baptized by the clergyman before mentioned. After the baptism was over, Rev. Mr. Patterson, of the 11th Michigan, made a most fervent and eloquent prayer, the prisoner on his knees, with eyes uplifted to heaven, and seemingly praying with all the fervor of his soul. After Mr. Patterson had finished praying, the prisoner was told he had five minutes to live, and to make any remarks he wished. Selkirk arose, with steady limbs, and said:
"Gentlemen and friends: I am not guilty of the murder of Adam Weaver; I did not kill him. I hope you will all live to one day find out who was the guilty man. I believe my Jesus is waiting to receive my poor soul. I am not guilty of Weaver's murder. I was there, but did not kill him."
He then knelt down and joined in prayer. After prayer was over, he stood up, and stepped on the scaffold again, to have the fatal rope placed around his neck. While the rope was being adjusted, he prayed audibly, and his last words on earth were:
"Sweet Jesus, take me to thyself. O, Lord, forgive me for all my sins;" and again, as the person who escorted him was tightening the rope, he said, "For God's sake don't choke me before I am hung." Then, when the black cap was drawn over his eyes, he seemed to know that in a few seconds he would be consigned to "that bourne from whence no traveler returns," and said, "Lord, have mercy on my soul."
The words were scarcely uttered, when that which was, a few moments before, a stout, healthy man, was nothing but an inanimate form. As the "black cap" was about being put on him, Sarah Ann Weaver, the youngest daughter of the murdered man, Adam Weaver, made her appearance inside the square, and quite close to the scaffold. She asked Captain Goodwin and Major Wiles the privilege of adjusting the rope around his neck, but they would not grant it. She is a young woman of about seventeen years, rather prepossessing and intelligent looking. She stood there unmoved, while the body hung dangling between heaven and earth. She seemed to realize that the murderer of her father had now paid the penalty with his life. I asked her what she thought of the affair, and she curtly remarked: "He will never murder another man, I think." After the body had remained about fifteen minutes swinging in the air, and surgeon Dorr pronounced life extinct, it was cut down and put in a coffin. The assemblage departed, some laughing, some crying, and some thinking of the fate of the deceased.
GENERAL A. J. SMITH vs. RUSTY GUNS.
Last winter General Smith's head-quarters were on board the steamer Des Arc; he was in command of a division of Grant's army. One day, on a trip from Arkansas Post to Young's Point, there were on this boat three companies of a nameless regiment. Now it happened that these men had rather neglected to clean their guns, which the sharp eye of the old veteran soon discovered. It was in the morning of our third day out, the wind was blowing terribly, and the weather unusually cold, rendering it very unpleasant to remain long on the hurricane-roof, that the General came rushing into the cabin, where nearly all the officers were comfortably seated around a warm stove.
"Captain," exclaimed the General, in no very mild tone, addressing himself to the commander of one of the aforesaid companies, "have you had an inspection of arms this morning?"
"No, General," timidly replied the Captain, "I have not."
"Have you held an inspection of your company at any time since the battle of Arkansas Post, sir?" sharply asked the General.
"No, sir; the weather has been so unpleasant, and I thought I would let my men rest awhile," hesitatingly replied the Captain, already nervous, through fear, that something disagreeable was about to turn up.
"You thought you'd let them rest awhile? Indeed! The d——l you did! Who pays you, sir, for permitting your men to lay and rot in idleness, while such important duties remain unattended to? What kind of condition are your arms in, now, to defend this boat, or even the lives of your own men, in case we should be attacked by the enemy this moment? What the d——l are you in the service for, if you thus neglect your most important duty?" fairly yelled the old General. And then, starting menacingly toward the quaking captain, said he, imperatively:
"Mount, sir, on that roof, this moment, and call your men instantly into line, that I may examine their arms."
"And you," resumed he, turning to the lieutenants, who commanded the other companies, "are fully as delinquent as the captain. Sirs! I must see your men in line within ten minutes."
It is scarcely necessary to state that the officers in question made the best of their time in drumming up their men, whom they found scattered in all parts of the boat. Finally, however, the companies referred to were duly paraded on the "hurricane," and an abridged form of inspection was gone through with. The General, finding their arms in bad condition, very naturally inflicted some severe talk, threatening condign punishment in case such neglect should be repeated.
But during the time in which one of these companies was falling in, which operation was not executed with that degree of promptness, on the part of the rank and file, satisfactory to the lieutenant commanding, that officer called out, in a most imploring strain, "Fall in, gentlemen! Fall in, lively, gentlemen!" That application of the word "gentlemen" fell upon the ear of General Smith, who, turning quickly around, hastily inquired:
"Are you the lieutenant in command of that company, sir?" addressing the individual who had given the command in such a polite manner.
"Yes, sir," replied the trembling subaltern.
"Then, who the d——l are you calling gentlemen?" cried the General. "I am an old soldier," continued he, approaching and looking more earnestly at the lieutenant, "but I must confess, sir, that I never before heard of the rank of gentleman in the army. Soldiers, sir, are ALL supposed to be gentlemen, of course; but, hereafter, sir, when you address soldiers, remember to say soldiers, or men; let us have no more of this 'bowing and scraping' where it is your duty to command."
Then, turning upon his heel, his eyes snapping with impatience, the old gentleman gave vent to the following words:
"Gentlemen! gentlemen, forsooth! And rusty guns! Umph! The d——l! I like that! Rusty guns! and gentlemen!"
A Trip into the Enemy's Country — The Rebels twice driven back by General Steadman — Incidents of the Charge of the 1st Tennessee Cavalry, under Major Tracy — The 35th and 9th Ohio in the Fight — Colonel Moody and the 74th Ohio — Colonel Moody on the Battle-field.
A TRIP INTO THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY.
Triune, Tennessee, March 8, 1863.
After a four-days' trip, without tents, we are once more in camp. Last Tuesday afternoon General Steadman ordered Colonel Bishop, of the 2d Minnesota, to take his regiment, a section of the 4th Regular Battery, under Lieutenant Stevenson, and six hundred of Johnson's 1st East Tennessee Cavalry, and proceed forthwith to Harpeth River. Anticipating a fight, I went with the detachment. As we passed through Nolinsville and Triune the few butternut inhabitants gazed with apparent envy at our well-clad soldiers. About nine o'clock at night we reached the river. Here the infantry bivouacked for the night; the artillery planted their pieces in eligible positions, while the cavalry crossed the river and commenced to search for rebel gentry who were supposed to be on short leave of absence at their homes. Quite a number of citizen soldiers were thus picked up. Major Tracy, of the cavalry, then proceeded, with a dozen men, to the residence of General Starnes, and surrounded it, hoping to find the General at home. But the bird had flown the day previous. The Major, however, being a searching man, and full of inquiry, looked under the beds, and in the closets, and asked who was up-stairs. "No one," was the reply, "but my brother, and he has never been in the army." Major Tracy took a candle, went up, saw the young man, and asked where the man had gone who had been in bed with him. The young man protested no one had been there, and Mrs. Starnes pledged her word, on the "honor of a Southern lady," that there was no one else in the house. But Tracy turned down the sheets, and, being a discerning man, discovered the imprint of another person in the bed, and, from the distance they had slept apart, he felt sure it was not a woman. So telling Mrs. S. he hadn't much faith in the honor of a Southern woman, under such circumstances, he thought he would take a peep through a dormer-window that projected from the roof; there, sure enough, sat Major Starnes, a son of the rebel general, in his shirt-tail, breeches and boots in hand, afraid to stir. It was a bitter cold night, and the poor fellow shook like an aspen leaf. He presented at once a pitiable yet ludicrous aspect. After collecting some twenty or thirty horses, they returned to their head-quarters, this side of the river. At night, not relishing the thought of sleeping on a rail, I had the good fortune of sharing a bed with Lieutenant Stevenson, who commanded the battery.
As we anticipated, an early "reveille of musketry" awoke the party, and mounting my sorrel Rosenante, I proceeded to investigate "why we do these things," or to learn what the quarrel is all about. Crossing the river, I caught up with Major Tracy just as he was returning from his expedition to General Starnes's house. It was about eight o'clock as we came in sight of College Grove, a little village about a mile beyond Harpeth River. Here we turned toward Triune, and had left College Grove half a mile to the rear, when we heard the rebels firing upon a few stragglers of the Tennessee Cavalry. Major Tracy promptly countermarched his battalion, which was in the rear, and double-quicked back to the school-house at the town, and within a hundred yards of the rebel cavalry, who were drawn up in a line, in the front and rear of some houses, on the right of the road. The Major, seeing they outnumbered him two to one, halted, and sent word back to Major Burkhardt to reinforce. He then formed a line of battle across the road, awaiting the other battalion. Just as it arrived, Major Tracy thought he saw signs of wavering in the rebel line, and immediately ordered Squadron E to "Forward, by platoons! Double-quick! Charge!" and galloping to the front, along with Lieutenant Thurman, away they go. The rebels waver, break, and now comes the chase. The Major gains upon their rear, and brings rebel No. 1 to the dust, by the aid of a Smith & Wesson revolver. The Major, now wild with excitement, threw his cap in the air, and, hallooing for the boys to follow, continued the chase. The race was fully a three-mile heat, in which we captured fifty-nine rebels. Thirteen were wounded by the saber, four very severely. There were not more than fifteen or twenty of our men close on their rear at one time, and as the rebels turned out on the road-side to surrender, the Tennessee boys never stopped to make sure of them, but yelled to them to drop their guns and dismount, and if they stirred before they returned, they would murder them. After going as far as the few thought it safe, they returned to camp, bringing the prisoners, horses, and various implements of warfare, "sich" as fine English shotguns and the like.
This was certainly one of the most gallant affairs of the season, and may be considered among the most successful charges of the war; for, while not a man of ours was injured, fifty-nine rebels were taken, and I saw more saber cuts that day than any time since I have been with the army.
At noon, General Steadman arrived with the 35th and 9th Ohio, together with another section of battery, under Lieutenant Smith, commanding Company I, 4th Regular Artillery, and the whole brigade moved at once across the river, and marched out in search of the enemy. We soon came upon their picket-fires, the pickets having skedaddled. We rested for the night at Riggs's Cross-roads, and continued the march in the morning. By nine o'clock we met the rebels, drawn up in line of battle, about a mile north of Chapel Hill. The Tennessee Cavalry were in the advance; General Steadman and staff occupied the crest of a hill, in full view of the rebels, and where we all could see the movements of the butternuts; the 9th Ohio arriving, was immediately deployed to the right, the 2d Minnesota and 35th Ohio and 87th Indiana to the left, the battery taking the center. The rebels, consisting of two thousand five hundred of Van Dorn's forces, ran helter skelter through Chapel Hill, and turned to the left—the Tennessee Cavalry again proving their valor by sabering half a dozen of the 7th Alabamians. The rebels, as they retreated across Spring Creek, formed a line, and gave us a brisk little brush; but our men steadily advanced, driving them back, and, crossing the creek, were in their late camp. We skirmished and drove them some three miles beyond the river, and found we were within one mile of Duck River, eleven miles within and beyond their line. Not knowing what forces might come to their aid, the General did not further pursue them; but, on returning, we destroyed their camp, setting fire to all the houses and large sheds they had been using for shelter. A church, among the rest, was destroyed, as it had been used by rebel officers for head-quarters. On the return, a great many colored men, women, and children begged to be allowed to come with us.
To-day, (the 8th,) Sabbath devotions were disturbed by General Steadman ordering the 35th Ohio and a section of battery, under Lieutenant Rodney, of the 4th Artillery, to feel the rebels at Harpeth; so again I thought I might catch an item, and went to the front. The impudent scamps had crossed, and were within four miles of our camp. The Tennessee Cavalry drove them back across the river. The rebels occupied a hill on the opposite side, adjoining the residence of Doctor Webb. After several little brushes by cavalry, our artillery opened upon the line formed by two thousand six hundred rebels, under Patterson and Roddy, of Van Dorn's division, who were supported by two regiments of infantry. They stood but two rounds from the Napoleons, before moving off in disorder. Our line advanced, when, much to our astonishment, the rebels opened up a battery from in front of Doctor Webb's house, which was sharply replied to by Lieutenant Rodney, who sent his compliments to the "gay and festive cusses," inclosed in a twelve-pounder, and directed to Doctor Webb's house; it was safely delivered, as we saw it enter the house. Again their four-pounder belched forth, and one of their shots fell directly in front of the 35th Ohio ambulance, but luckily it did not burst. After holding our position four hours, and driving the rebels back to their dens, we returned to camp.
COLONEL MOODY AND THE 74th OHIO.
In the fight at Murfreesboro, General Rosecrans said the 74th Ohio behaved nobly. After General McCook's right had been turned, the whole rebel force came against General Negley's division, to which this regiment belongs. After the 37th Indiana had retired, it being terribly cut up, the 74th was ordered to take its place amid such a shower of shot and shell as has scarcely fallen during the war.
This regiment did not leave its position until an order came from Colonel Miller, commanding the brigade; then, slowly and stubbornly, it came from that well-fought field, leaving many of its members, "who never shall fight again," dead upon it. On the Friday following that bloody Wednesday, they were "in at the death," in the triumphant charge of our left. Its commander, Colonel Moody, is "the fighting Parson" of the Cumberland Army. Calmly and steadily he led his men into the seven-times heated furnace of battle, and,
"As the battle din, Came rolling in,
his voice of cheer and encouragement was heard above its roar. Just before they came into the whizzing storm, he said: "Say your prayers, my boys, and give them your bullets as fast as you can." A conspicuous mark, he was struck by balls in three places, and his horse shot from under him; but he took no notice of the hits. Once, during the thickest of the fight, he rode along the line, and was cheered by his men even in the roar of battle.
Side by side with Colonel Moody rode, during both battles, the gallant Major Bell, the new field-officer of this regiment. Ohio's 74th is justly proud that she has the experience of a gray-headed Colonel united with the "dash" of a young Major. This regiment has won for itself a place among the "crack" regiments of our army; and General Rosecrans told it to-day that he would have to call it "the fighting regiment."
COLONEL MOODY ON THE BATTLE-FIELD.
The Ohio Statesman, speaking of Colonel Moody at the late battle at Murfreesboro, has the following:
"Colonel Moody has been so long accustomed to 'charge home' upon the rebellious 'hosts of sin,' from the pulpit, that he finds himself in no uncongenial position in charging bayonet upon the rebellious hosts of Davis and the Devil upon the battle-field. And, as in the former position he ever acquitted himself right valiantly, so, in this latter position, he is equally heroic and unconquerable.
"His escape from death in the late fight was so wonderful as to seem clearly Providential. His friends and members of his church in Cincinnati had presented him with a pair of handsome revolvers. One of these he wore in the breast of his coat during the fight. A partially-spent Minie-ball had struck him on the breast, pierced his coat, and, striking the butt of his pistol, splintered it to pieces directly over his heart, but went no further. The stroke was so violent as to hurl him from his horse by the concussion, and he lay, for a moment, insensible. Consciousness soon returned, and, mounting his horse, he raged on through the battle like an enraged lion. He won the most hearty congratulations from General Rosecrans himself. So much for having one's life saved by a bosom friend."
A Wedding in the Army — A Bill of Fare in Camp — Dishonest Female Reb — Private Cupp — To the 13th Ohio.
A WEDDING IN THE ARMY,
And, as it is from the pen of the worthy Chaplain, J. H. Lozier, it is perfectly reliable.
About as pleasant and romantic a wedding as anybody ever saw, lately took place in this department. Immediately after the battle, a soldier of the 15th Indiana took sick, from exposure in the fight, and was taken to Hospital No. 5. Among the attendants there was a pretty little "Yankee girl," whose charms occasioned an affliction of the heart which baffled the skill of all the doctors, and they were compelled to call for the services of the chaplain.
There are obstructions in "the course of true love," even in Tennessee, and one of these was the difficulty of procuring "the papers," as there was no clerk's office in the county, or, at least, no clerk to attend to the office. Again were the resources of the General commanding brought into requisition, and again did he prove himself "equal to the emergency." The following document, authorized by General Rosecrans, dictated by General Garfield, and promulgated by Major Wiles, shows how men get licenses to marry in those counties in this department where martial law alone exists:
State of Tennessee, Rutherford County. Greeting:
To any person empowered by law to perform marriage in Tennessee:
You are hereby authorized to join together in marriage Joseph A. Hamilton and Francillia L. Bean, and this shall be your authority for so doing.
Witness my hand and official seal of the Provost-Marshal-General, Department of the Cumberland.
WILLIAM M. WILES, Major 44th Indiana, and Provost-Marshal-General, Department of the Cumberland.
State of Tennessee, Rutherford County.
Be it remembered that, on this 12th day of May, A. D. 1863, personally appeared before me, Major William M. Wiles, Provost-Marshal-General, Department of the Cumberland, one W. T. Mendenhall, Assistant Surgeon of Hospital No. 5, of lawful age, who, being duly sworn, on oath says that he is acquainted with Joseph A. Hamilton and Francillia L. Bean; that said parties are of legal age to marry, without the consent of their parents or guardians, and that he knows of no lawful reason why said parties should not marry.
[Signed] W. T. MENDENHALL. Subscribed and sworn to this 12th day of May, A. D. 1863.
WILLIAM M. WILES, Major and Provost-Marshal-General, Department of the Cumberland.
Now, therefore, I, William M. Wiles, Major of 44th Indiana Volunteers, and Provost-Marshal-General, Department of the Cumberland, in consideration of the fact that this county has been placed under military law, and civil courts and laws, with their officers, are not in existence, do empower John Hogarth Lozier, a regularly ordained minister of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and Chaplain of the 37th Regiment of Indiana Volunteers, to join in Holy Matrimony the above-named parties, and this shall be his full and proper authority for so doing.
Given this 12th day of May, A. D., 1863. Witness my hand and seal, the day and year above mentioned,
W. M. WILES, Major and Provost-Marshal-General, Department of the Cumberland.
Accordingly the happy pair, together with a large concourse of officers and soldiers, and a delightful sprinkling of pretty Northern belles, met on the battle-field, in a grove on the banks of Stone River, on the precise spot where the bridegroom, with his regiment, the noble 15th Indiana, fought on the memorable 31st of December. A large, flat rock stood up prominently, and upon this the bride and groom, with their attendants, and the chaplain, took their position, while an eager throng gathered around to witness the interesting ceremony. After announcing the "license," as above given, the chaplain asked the usual questions as to "objections." There was a moment's silence, in which, if any man had dared to object, he would have done so at the peril of an immediate "plunging bath" in Stone River, for the boys were determined to see the ceremony completed. The chaplain then proceeded, in solemn and impressive tones, to perform the ceremony, at the conclusion of which they dropped upon their knees, and a solemn invocation being uttered, they arose, and having pronounced them husband and wife, he introduced them to the audience. Then followed a rare scene of unrestrained social enjoyment. The mingling of shoulder-straps with plain "high-privates," and of "stars" with "stripes," was truly refreshing. We observed three Major-Generals, McCook, Crittenden, and Johnson, besides any amount of "lesser lights," among the crowd.
I see, by a late Chattanooga Rebel, that the editor of that "delectable sheet" is in grief because he has been told that Miss Fannie Jorden, who resides near our camp, is about to marry Captain Kirk, of General Steadman's staff. The Rebel says: "We are sorry to hear that the niece of the gallant Colonel Rayne has so far forgotten herself as to engage to marry one of the 'Lincoln horde.'"
We have had the pleasure of meeting Miss Fannie upon several occasions. She is a very nice young lady, and is not aware of any such engagement. Captain Kirk is pretty good-looking; but, we rather guess he is not on the right side of Jorden this time. If the young lady marries, 'tis more likely she will emigrate to Minnesota than Ohio. We sincerely hope our neighbor of the Rebel will not have cause to "come to grief." He had better mind his own business, and let the soldiers here attend to the "Union" unmolested.
A strange family feud, quite "Corsican" in its character, came to light some time ago, while we were at Cunningham's Ford.
There were two families, Bently by name, residing there. These brothers had not spoken to each other for forty years. They nor their families have had any intercourse whatever; never recognizing each other, though they had resided side by side, farms adjoining. One could not go to church, or meeting of any kind, or to town, without passing his brother. While we were there, the elder brother died, and he was buried by his children. The other family knew nothing of it, until told by our soldiers. The cause of the estrangement was, that, in dividing the land left them, more than forty years ago, one claimed the line was drawn some ten feet too far south, thus losing to the other about six acres of ground, the value, at that time, being about twenty-five cents per acre. This feud is now an inheritance, we suppose, to be handed down forever. Can't you send out a missionary?
Those who can afford it are now enjoying in camp all the luxuries of the season. I received an invitation to dine out yesterday. The following bill of fare was partaken of in a beautiful arbor:
BILL OF FARE.
Mock Turtle Soup.
Turkey. Roast Beef. Ham and Eggs. Roast Mutton, with Currant Jelly. Radishes. Lettuce. Onions and Potatoes. Custard. Lemon Pies. Pound Cake. Jellies.
The whole concluding with elegant "Mint Juleps," with straws in them.
In the 1st Brigade, under Colonel Connell, each company has a large brick cooking-range erected, and their system is really worthy of emulation. This entire division is supplied with fine fresh bread every day. The division baker has three Cincinnati bake-ovens, from which he turns out from three to five hundred loaves a day, besides pies innumerable. It is under the foremanship of Mr. John Wakely, a well-known Cincinnati baker. This arrangement is a great saving to the Government in the way of transportation, etc.
I heard a first-rate story, which, although it did not occur in this division, is too good to lose. A private soldier, named Cupp, who is a German, belonging to the 1st Missouri Cavalry, and now one of the body-guard of General Granger, was out to the front a few days ago, and seeing a "stray rebel," "made for him." The chase commenced—away went Mr. Reb and Cupp. Having the fleetest horse, Cupp gained upon him rapidly, crying, "Halt! halt! halt!" every leap his horse would make. But the rebel, bent on getting away, heeded not the call. At length the Dutchman reached his rear, and, swinging his saber heavily over his head, charged the rebel, and brought him to a "dead stand."
"Ah ha!" said the now excited Cupp, "how you vass all de viles? D——n you, anoder time I hollers halt I speck you stop a leetle, unt not try to fool mit me so long, you d——d rebel."
DISHONEST FEMALE REB.
A rebel sympathizer and his wife, a cross-eyed specimen of the genus homo, came within our lines and delivered themselves up, to be where they could get something to eat. Captain Parshall, of the 35th Ohio, being Provost-Marshal of Triune, and supposing them honest refugees, endeavored to secure comfortable quarters for the woman at the house of Dr. Williams. Dr. Williams is a stanch Union man, and willing to do all in his power for suffering humanity. The Doctor told the Captain that the lady was welcome, but that his wife was away from home.
Captain Parshall had kindly provided quarters for the husband who, as he was about going, gazed cautiously around, and eyed the Doctor from head to foot, then looked at the woman with an "affectionate" stare, and, with a long-drawn sigh, exclaimed:
"Well, Doctor, I guess I'll risk her with you."
In about an hour the Captain was startled with the sudden appearance of Doctor Williams, much excited, who begged that he would have that woman taken away, right off, as she was a thief.
The Captain went over immediately, and interrogated the woman, but she stoutly denied the charge. The Captain, however, noticed a very heavy bust where a bust shouldn't be with so hatchet-faced a woman, and asked her what she had in her bosom.
She replied, that was common with her "every grass;" but the Captain "couldn't see it," and indelicately placed his masculine fingers within the sacred precincts, and drew forth two children's dresses, one from each side; finding she was fairly caught, she begged for mercy; said she didn't know what "possessed her," and declared that was all she had. The Captain told her he would have to hang her if she didn't deliver up every thing. She became frightened, and then commenced the peeling of petticoats, shawls, chemises, pillow-slips, etc., much to the amusement and contempt of all honest people.
Suffice it to say, the woman, with her husband, was sent back to Dixie, to feed upon corn-bread and water, as the Union people of this neighborhood didn't wish to be contaminated by such trash.
The Doctor's wife has since returned. She told me the story, and declares she won't leave the Doctor to keep house any more, as she won't trust him alone.
TO THE THIRTEENTH OHIO.
By Martha M. THOMAS.
Our Fathers House is threatened, boys! The Union, grand and free, Has warmed an adder in its heart That saps its great roof-tree. We've sworn to hold it pure, boys— A first love's holy shrine; A home for all the homeless, boys, For "auld lang syne."
Its foemen are our brothers, boys; But still we must not falter; Though dear to us those who offend, They must die by lead or halter. Our Father's House is ours in trust, From Washington's own line; The Union knows no Pleiad lost For "auld lang syne."
The rafters of the old house, boys, Must never know pollution; Its cement was our father's blood, Its roof the Constitution; And though, like prodigals astray, Its sons eat husks with swine, And feel the rod, we'll kill the calf, For "auld lang syne."
Then let the bugle sound, my boys And forward to the strife; We'll thrash our rebel brothers well, E'en though it cost our life. And when we've whipped them into grace And made each dim star shine, We'll open wide our Father's door, For "auld lang syne."
The Oath — A Conservative Darkey's Opinion of Yankees — Visit to the Graves of Ohio and Indiana Boys — Trip from Murfreesboro to Louisville — Nashville Convalescents — A Death in the Hospital — Henry Lovie Captured.
By Thomas BUCHANAN READ.
HAMLET—Swear on my sword.
Ye freemen, how long will ye stifle The vengeance that justice inspires? With treason how long will you trifle, And shame the proud name of your sires? Out, out with the sword and the rifle, In defense of your homes and your fires. The flag of the old Revolution Swear firmly to serve and uphold, That no treasonous breath of pollution Shall tarnish one star on its fold. Swear! And hark, the deep voices replying From graves where your fathers are lying, "Swear, O, swear!"
In this moment who hesitates, barters The rights which his forefathers won, He forfeits all claim to the charters Transmitted from sire to son. Kneel, kneel at the graves of our martyrs, And swear on your sword and your gun: Lay up your great oath on an altar As huge and as strong as Stonehenge, And then with sword, fire, and halter, Sweep down to the field of revenge. Swear! And hark, the deep voices replying From graves where your fathers are lying, "Swear, O, swear!"
By the tombs of your sires and brothers, The host which the traitors have slain; By the tears of your sisters and mothers, In secret concealing their pain The grief which the heroine smothers, Consuming the heart and the brain By the sigh of the penniless widow, By the sob of her orphans' despair, Where they sit in their sorrowful shadow, Kneel, kneel, every freeman, and swear; Swear! And hark, the deep voices replying From graves where your fathers are lying, "Swear, O, swear!"
On mounds which are wet with the weeping Where a nation has bowed to the sod, Where the noblest of martyrs are sleeping, Let the winds bear your vengeance abroad, And your firm oaths be held in the keeping Of your patriot hearts and your God. Over Ellsworth, for whom the first tear rose, While to Baker and Lyon you look; By Winthrop, a star among heroes, By the blood of our murdered McCook, Swear! And hark, the deep voices replying From graves where your fathers are lying, "Swear, O, swear!"
A CONSERVATIVE DARKEY'S OPINION OF YANKEES.
There was a large Union meeting in Nashville, and an old house-servant of one of the most aristocratic rebel families, who hates "Lincolnites" and "poor white trash" as heartily as Jeff Davis does, was walking slowly along the square as the grand procession was forming. Soldiers were moving about in great numbers, the cavalry galloping to and fro, regiments were forming to the sound of lively music, citizens and visitors thronged the sidewalks, children ran about with banners, and thousands of flags fluttered like fragments of rainbows, from the various buildings. The conservative contraband paced slowly along, rolling his distended eyes in all directions, apparently overwhelmed by the exhibition and bustle around him. Approaching our friend, he exclaimed:
"My God! what are we Southern folks coming to? Massa said, a year ago, dat de Yankees done gone away forever. Now dey is swarmin' about thicker dan locusses. Dey runs dere boats on our ribber; dey is pressin' all our niggers; dey lib in our houses; dey drivin' our wagons, and ringin' our bells; dey 'fisticatin' our property; dey eatin' up our meat and corn; dey done killed up mose all of our men; and, 'fore God, I spec dey are gwine to marry all our widders!"