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He is one, he is one
Of that noble band Who have fought, who have died,
For their fatherland.
He needs no tears;
An angel now,
Upon his brow.
We should not weep
That he is gone;
With Aim 'tis morn.
A Brave Drummer-boy.—Orion P. Howe, of Waukcgin, Illinois, drummer-boy to the Fifty-fifth volunteers of that State, was appointed to fill a vacancy in the Naval School at Newport. The following extract from a letter written by Major-General Sherman to Secretary Stanton, detailing an incident which transpired during the assault upon the rebel works at Vicksburgh, on May nineteenth, doubtless secured the boy's promotion:
"When the assault at Vicksburgh was at its height on the nineteenth of May, and I was in front near the road which formed my line of attack, this young lad came up to me wounded and bleeding, with a good, healthy boy's cry: 'General Sherman, send some cartridges to Colonel Malmborg; the men are nearly all out.' 'What is the matter, my boy?' 'They shot me in the log, sir, but I can go to the hospital. Send the cartridges right away.' Kvcn where we stood the shot fell thick, and I told him to go to the rear at once, I would attend to the cartridges, and off he limped. Just before he disappeared on the hill, he turned and called as loud as he could: 'Calibre 54.' I have not seen the lad since, and his Colonel, Malmborg, on inquiry, gives me his address as above, and says he is a bright, intelligent boy, with a fair preliminary education.
"What arrested my attention then was, and what renews my memory of the fact now is, that one so young, carrying a musket-hall wound through his leg, should have found his way to me on that fatal spot, and delivered his message, not forgetting the very important part even of the calibre of his musket, 54, which you know is an usual one.
"I'll warrant that the boy has in him the elements of a man, and I commend him to the Government as one worthy the fostering care of some one of its national institutions."
Little Johnxy Cr.Esi.—A pleasant little scene occurred last evening at the headquarters of General Thomas. Of course you remember the story of little Johnny Clem, the motherless atom of a drummer-boy, "aged ten," who strayed away from Newark, Ohio; and the first we knew of him, though small enough to live in a drum, was beating the long roll for the Twenty-second Michigan. At Chickamauga, he filled the office of " marker," carrying the guidon whereby they form the lines; a duty having its counterpart in the surveyor's more peaceful calling, in the flag-man who flutters the red signal along the metes and bounds. On the Sunday of the battle, the little fellow's occupation gone, he picked up a gun that had fallen from some dying hand, provided himself with ammunition, and began putting in the periods quite on his own ac
count, blazing away close to the ground, like a fire-fly in the grass. Late in the waning day, the waif lelt almost alone in the whirl of the battle, a rebel Colonel dashed up, and looking down at him, ordered him to surrender: "Surrender!" he shouted, "you little
d—d son of a !" The words were hardly out of
his mouth, when Johnny brought his piece to " order arms," and as his hand slipped down to the hammer, he pressed it back, swung up the gun to the position of "charge bayonet," and as the officer raised his sabre to strike the piece aside, the glancing barrel lifted into range, and the proud Colonel tumbled from his horse, his lips fresh-stained with the syllable of vile reproach he had flung on a mother's grave in the hearing of her child!
A few swift moments ticked on by musket-shots, and the tiny gunner was swept up at a rebel swoop and borne away a prisoner. Soldiers, bigger but not better, were taken with him, only to be washed back again by a surge of Federal troopers, and the prisoner of thirty minutes was again John Clem " of ours;" and General Rosecrans made him a sergeant, and the stripes of rank covered him all over, like a mouse in a harness; and the daughter of Mr Secretary Chase presented him a silver medal appropriately inscribed, which he worthily wears, a royal order of honor, upon his left breast; and all men conspire to spoil him; but, since few ladies can get at him here, perhaps he may be saved.
But what about last night? Well, like Flora McFlimsey, the Sergeant " had nothing to wear;" the clothing in the wardrobe of loyal livery was not at nil like Desdemona's handkerchief, " too little," but like the garments of the man who roomed a month over a baker's oven, " a world too wide;" and so Miss Babcock, of the Sanitary Commission, suggested to a resident of your city, that a uniform for the little Orderly would be acceptable. Mr. Waite and other gentlemen, of the " Sherman House" ordered it, Messrs. A. D. Titsworth & Company made it, Chaplain Raymond brought it, Miss Ltabeock presented it, and Johnny put it on. Chaplain Raymond, of the Fifty-first Illinois—by the by, a most earnest and efficient officer— accompanied the gift with exceedingly appropriate suggestion and advice, the substance of which I send you. This morning I happened at headquarters just as the belted and armed Sergeant was booted and spurred, and ready to ride. Resplendent in his elegant uniform, rigged cap-a-pk, modest, frank, with a clear eye and a manly face, he looked more like a fancypicture than a living thing. Said he to the Chaplain: "You captured me by surprise, yesterday." Now, he is "going on" thirteen, as our grandmothers used to say; but he would be no monster if we called him only nine. Think of a sixty-three pound Sergeant— fancy a handful of a hero, and then read the Arabian Nights, and believe them! Long live the little Orderly!
A FEMALE REBEL.
Fokt Smith, Arc, February 17, 1804. f
"Special Oroers, No. 45:
"Miss Cecilia Dc Jeunne, a resident of Fort Smith, having admitted to the General Commanding that she is disloyal to the Government of the United States; that she gave utterance to exclamations of joy when she heard that Major-General Blunt and all his staff were killed; that she has expressed sentiments of disloyalty to the Government of the United State?, at various times since the occupation of Fort Smith by the Federal forces; that she has not lived at her father's house for two years, lie being a Union man; and, it not being advisable that she should be sent through our lines at present, nor reside longer at Fort Smith, or on the south side of the Arkansas River, but it bein;* advisable that she should reside on the north side of the Arkansas; and it being desirable also that the war should not cause the separation of members of the same family more than is really necessary;
"It is llurefure ordered, That the said Cecilia De Jcunne leave Fort Smith to-morrow at twelve M., under charge of the Provost-Marshal, and be taken to Van Buren, and remain there until further orders; that she be restricted to the limits of her father's residence, and to intercourse with her father's family only, all other persons being forbidden to communicate with her.
"Any manifestations of disrespect to the Government and military authorities of the United States will be promptly and properly attended to.
"The Provost-Marshal at Van Buren will see that this order is complied with.
"By command of Brigadier-General J. M. Tuayer.
"Wm. S. Whitten,
Q. What cause do the rebels claim to have for trying to destroy our Government?
Q. What pretext?
A. The fugitive slave code of some of the Northern States.
Q. What effect could a law in Maine or Massachusetts have upon a citizen of Georgia or Alabama?
A. Not any whatever.
Q. Why, then, did the rebels make this a pretest?
A. Because thev had not any other.
The leaders well knew that this was no rightful pretext, but they knew also that they could not divert the mind of the general masses without urging some excuse for secession; and as they could hatch up nothing else, they were forced to urge this.
Q. Upon whose shoulders does this war rest?
A. The poor man's.
Q. Whose soul is stained with the blood spilled?
A. The richtiuan's.
Q. Who, then, is to blame for this war?
A. The rich men of the South.
Q. Upon whom, then, should the punishment rest?
A. Upon the rich men.
Q. What should be done with the poor man?
A. He should be pardoned.
Q. Who are the supporters of the rebel army?
A. The slaves.
Q. How do the slaves support the rebel army?
A. By raising supplies in food and clothing.
Q. What, then, ought Uncle Sam to do with them?
A. Liberate them.
Q. Is it right to make soldiers out of slaves?
A. It is just as proper and right for them to uphold the flag of the Union by fighting as it is for them to uphold the rebellion by working. If the Union troops have the right to use a rebel battery aguinst its original owners, they certainly have the right to use their slaves against them. Their being property does not destroy this right, for batteries are property also. A
traitor is not any too good to be shot by a negro, though he be as black as hell. •»*
ADVESTCRKS OF A LONG-ISLAND GIRL.
The Memphis (Tennessee) Timet, of August fifth, lSf.4, tells this story of a woman's adventures;
"Miss Fanny Wilson is a native of Williamsburgh, Long Island. About four years ago, or one year prior to the war, she cane West, visiting a relative who resided at La Fayette, Indiana. While here her leisure moments were frequently employed in communicating, by affectionate epistles, with one to whom her heart had been given, and her hand had been promised, before leaving her native city—a young man from Xew-Jersey. After a residence of about one year with her Western relative, and just as the war was beginning to prove a reality, Fanny, in company with a certain Miss Nelly Graves, who had also come from the E:ist, and there left a lover, set out upon her return to her home and family. While on their way thither, the two young ladies concocted a scheme, the romantic nature of which was doubtless its most attractive feature.
"The call for troops having been issued, and the several States coming quickly forward with their first brave boys, it so happened that those two youths whose hearts had been exchanged for those of the pair who now were on their happy way toward them, enlisted in a certain and the same regiment. Having obtained cognizance of this fact, Fanuy aud her companion conceived the idea of assuming the uniform, enlisting in the service, and following their lovers, to the field. Soon their plans were matured and carried into effect. A sufficient change having been made in their personal appearance, their hair having been cut, and themselves reclothed to suit their wish, they sought the locality of the chosen regiment, offered their services, were accepted, and mustered in. In another company from their own of the same regiment, (the Twenty-fourth New-Jersey,) were their patriotic lovers, 'known though all unknowing.' On parade, in the drill, they were together—they obeyed the same command. In the quick evolutions of the field, they came as close as they had in other days, even on the floor of the dancing-school—and yet, so says Fanny, the facts of the ease were not made known.
"But the Twenty-fourth, by the fate of war, was ordered before Vicksburgh, having already served through the first campaign in Western Virginia, and here, alas! for Fanny, she was to suffer by one blow. Here her brave lover was wounded. She sought his cot, watched over him, and half revealed her true nature in her devotion and gentleness. She nursed him faithfully and long, but lie died. Next after this, by the reverse of fortune, Fanny herself and her companion were both thrown upon their hospital cots, exhausted, siek. With others, both wounded aud debilitated, they were sent to Cairo. Their attendants were more constant and more scrutinizing. Suspicion was first had; the discovery of Fanny's and Nelly's true sex was made. Of course, the next event in their romantic history was a dismissal from the service. But not until her health had improved sufficiently was Fanny dismissed from the sick-ward of the hospital. This happene 1, however, a week or two after her sex had become known. Nellie, who up to this time had shared the fate of her companion, was now no longer allowed to do so; her illness became serious, she was detained in the hospital, and Fanny aud she parted— their histories no longer beiug linked. Nellie wc can tell no further of; but Fanny, having again entered society in her true position, what became of her 1
"We now fee her on the stage of a theatre at Cairo, serving an engagement as ballot girl. But this lasts but a few nights. . She turns up in Memphis, even as a soldier again. But she lias changed her branch of the service; Fanny has now become a private in the Third Illinois cavalry. Only two weeks has she been enlisted, when, to her surprise, while riding through the street with a fellow-soldier, she is stopped by a guard, and arrested for being 'a woman in men's clothing.' She is taken to the office of the detective police, and questioned until no doubt can remain as to her identity—not proving herself, as suspected, a rebel spy, but a Federal soldier. An appropriate wardrobe is procured her, and her word is given that she will not again attempt a disguise. And here we leave her. Fanny is a young lady of about nineteen years; of a fair face, though somewhat tanned; of a rather masculine voice, and a mind sprightly and somewhat educated—being very easily able to pass herself oft' for a boy of about seventeen or eighteen."
It may be interesting to know the state of General Hayes's thoughts and feelings just before entering upon that desperate conflict in the Wilderness, where he lost his life. In a letter written upon the morning on which the inarch commenced, he says:
"This morning was beautiful, for
•Lightly and brightly shone the sun,
"Although we were anticipating to march at eight o'clock, it might have been an appropriate harbinger of the day of the regeneration of mankind; but it only brought to remembrance, through the throats of many bugles, that duty enjoined upon each one, perhaps, before the setting sun, to lay down a life for his country."
Josiaii Vavassecr & Co., of London, take credit to themselves, of course through the columns of the London Times, for providing the steel shot for the rebels by which the Keokuk was sunk. A statement published in England to the effect that " practical artillerists have not been using spherical steel shot" put this house of Vavasseur & Co. upon its defence, and as a proof that artillerists do use such implements of war, they say they "have reason to believe that the same shot made by us (Vavasseur & Co.) were used by the confederates in the first attack of the monitors upon Charleston, hi which action the Keokuk was so severely handled." Vavasseur k Co., like good " neutral " Englishmen as they are, rather pride themselves on the efficient aid thus rendered to the rebels.
President Lincoln sent a letter of thanks to the widow of the late Rev. Joseph Stockton, of Pittsburgh, Pa., a lady eighty years of age, for knitting a great number of stockings for the soldiers. To this favor of the President Mrs. Stockton has sent the following reply: "To His Excellency, Abraluun Lincoln, President of
the United Stales:
"Your kind letter was duly received. My labors in behalf of our gallant soldiers, I fear, are somewhat exaggerated. I have endeavored to do what I could for those who battle to crush this wicked rebellion.
"Every grandson I have capable of bearing arms is now in the army—one acting as brigadier-general in Western Virginia; one as colonel, commanding under \ General McPherson; one as captain. One Hundred nnd Fortieth Pennsylvania volunteers; one as lieutenant, in the Fourteenth Pennsylvania cavalry; and another, who was disabled as a gunner in the Chicago Light Artillery, 1 have at home with me, and he is yet anxious to again join his command.
"At my time of life I cannot expect that many more years will be given to me; yet it is my sincere desire that ere I close my mortal life peace may be restored to our whole land.
"And now, my dear sir, in concluding this letter, (perhaps the last I shall ever write,) permit me to say that my earnest prayer for you is, that you may long be spared to enjoy the blessing of a grateful nation, when Freedom shall have enthroned herself truly over the entire land.
"Committing you to the care of our Heavenly Father, I remain your sincere friend,
Rosecrass To Halleck.—The following letter explains itself:
"IlKADCjClRTERS DEPARTMENT Of THE C("M- ) BKKt.A.ND, MCRKHEKSIIOIIO, IKS*., V
Starch 6, lsGS. J
"Major-General tf. W. Halleck, General-in-Chief
U. S. A., Wasliiiialon, D. V.:
''general: Yours of the first instant, announcing the offer of a vacant Major-Generalship to the General in the field who first wins an important and decisive victory, is received.
"As an officer and a citizen, I feel degraded at such an auctioneering of honor. Have we a General who would fight for his own personal benefit, when he would not for honor and his country? He will come by his commission basely in that case, and deserves to be despised by men of honor. But are all the brave and honorable generals on an equality as to chances? If not, it is unjust to those who probably deserve most. W. S. Rosecrans,
EORBEST ON FORT ' PILLLOWl
Mkridiax, Miss., May 18, 1S65. Before the large chimney-place of a small cabinroom, surrounded by a group of confederate officers and men, the room dimly lighted by a small tallow candle, I first saw Lieutenant-General N. B. Forrest, commanding a corps of cavalry in the rebel army. Forrest is a man of fine appearance, about six feet in height, having dark, piercing hazel eyes, carefully trimmed moustache, and chin-whiskers, dark ns night, finely cut features, and iron-gray hair. His form is lithe, plainly indicating great physical power and activity. He was neatly dressed in citizen's clothes of some gray mixture, the only indication of military service being the usual number of small staff-buttons on his vest. I should have marked him as a prominent man had I seen him on Broadway; and when I was told that he was the "Forrest of Fort Pillow," I devoted my whole attention to him, and give you the result of our conversation. My first impression of the man was rather favorable than otherwise. Except a guard of some hundred Federal soldiers, more than half a mile away, I was, with the exception of another person, the only Yankee in the room, and, being
dressed in citizen's clothes, was never suspected, except by the landlord.
"General," said I, "I little expected to bo seated bv this fire with you." '" Why so?"
"Well, because your name has been in the mouth of nearly every person for a long time."
"Yes," said he, displaying the finest set of teeth that I think I have ever seen; "I have waked up the Yankees everywhere, lately."
"Now that you have time, General, do you think vou will ever put upon paper the true account of the Fort Pillow affair?"
"Well," said he, "the Yankees ought to know; they sent down their best men to investigate the affair."
"But are we to believe their report, General?"
"Yes, if wo are to believe any thing a nigger says. When I went into the war, I meant to fight. Fighting means killing. I have lost twenty-nine horses in the war, and have killed a man each time. The other day I was a horse ahead, but at Selma they surrounded me, and I killed two, jumped my horse over a onehorse wagon, and got away." I began to think I had some idea of the man at last. He continued: "My Provost-Marshal's book will show that I have taken thirty-one thousand prisoners during the war. At Fort Pillow I sent in a flag of truce, and demanded an unconditional surrender, or I would not answer for my men. This they refused. I sent them another note, giving them one hour to determine. This they refused. I could see on the river boats loaded with troops. They sent back, asking for an hour more. I gave them twenty minutes. I sat on my horse during the whole time.
"The fort was filled with niggers and deserters from our army; men who lived side by side with my men. I waited five minutes after the time, and then blew my bugle for the charge. In twenty minutes my men were over the works, and the firing had ceased. The citizens and Yankees had broken in the heads of whisky and lager-beer barrels, and were all drunk. They kept up firing all the time, as they went down the hill. Hundreds of them rushed to the river, and tried to swim to the gunboats, and my men shot them down. The Mississippi river was red with their blood for three hundred yards. During all this, their flag was still flying, and I rushed over the works and cat the halyards, and let it down, nnd stopped the fight. Many of the Yankees were in tents in front, and they were in their way, as they concealed my men, and some of them set them on fire. If any were burned to death, it was in those tents.
"They have a living witness in Captain Young, their Quartermaster, who is still alive; and I will leave it to any prisoner I have ever taken if I have not treated them well." "You have made some rapid marches, General," said I. "Yes," said he, "I have five thousand men that can whip any ten thousand in the world. Sturgis came out to whip me once, and was ten thousand strong. I marched off as if I was going to Georgia, and fell upon the head of his column when he least expected me, and, with two thousand three hundred men, killed over three thousand, captured as many more, with all the trains and mules, and drove him back. I meant to kill every man in Federal uniform, unless he gave up." He spoke of capturing a fort from Colonel Crawford, in Athens, Alabama, garrisoned by one thousand five hundred men. Said he : "I took him out and showed him my forces—some brigades two or three times,
and one battery I kept marching around all the time. My men dismounted, leaving every fourth man to hold the horses, and formed the rest in front as infantry; and the darn fool gave up without firing a shot."
Speaking of Streight's capture, he said it was almost a shame. "Ilis men rode among them and shot them down like cattle. They were mounted on sharp-edged saddles, and were worn out, and he killed several of them himself. Didn't hardly know what to do with them." But the heart sickens at the infamous conduct of this butcher. He is one of the few men that are general " blowers," and yet will fight. Forrest is a thorough bravo—a desperate man in every respect. He was a negro-trader before the war, and in " personal affairs," as he calls them, bad killed several men.
He had a body guard of one hundred and fifty picked men. These he placed in the rear, with orders to shoot any one that turned back. I have spoken to numbers of confederate officers, and they speak of liira with disgust, though all admit his bravery and fitness for the cavalry service. He has two brothers living, one of whom is spoken of as being a greater butcher than the Lieutenant-General. He is a man without education or refinement, married, I believe, to a very pretty wife. Any one would call him handsome.
Any one hearing him talk, would call him a braggadocio. As for myself, I would believe one half he said, and only dispute with him with my finger upon the trigger of my pistol. When I told him I was a Yankee, and late upon a prominent General's staff, be looked about him, and among his staff, for corroborative proof. Volleys of this, ready prepared, poured forth upon his order. My not being a shorthjiid writer necessarily deprived me of the pleasure of a further contribution to this true story.
Two young Kentuckians were walking along the road when Forrest came up; he called theni deserters, nnd deliberately shot them. It appears that these young men were upon legitimate duty, and oue of them under military age. The fathers of these youths are upon Forrest's track, sworn to kill him. Poetic justice requires that he should meet with a violent death. Probably one hundred men have fallen by his hand. He says " the war is played ;" that, where he lives, there arc plenty of fish; and that he is going to take a tent along, and don't want to see any oue for twelve months.
What a charming hero he would make for a sensational " King of the Cannibal Islands!"
When he conies back, all glorious,
With the love-light in his eye, From the battle-field victorious,
Who'll be happier then than I? See, the big arm-chair is waiting,
Vacant still in its old place— Time, press quickly on the hours
Till I see his pleasant face!
He was too young, they told me,
To march against the foe; Yet when his country needed aid,
His mother bade him go I 'Twere meet slaves should tremble
Whom tyrants hold in thrall; But my boy was a freeman born,
He went at freedom's call.