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A u Ai
XENIA, TUESDxVY, DECEMBER 15, 18C3.
Kni EVCKT ICHKAT MOBSOC T
Setli T Brown,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
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News from the War.
BY. J. H. ELLIOT.
1 The long golden day is now fading at last
The red son has sunk 'hind the hills in the west,
" Already the twilight its shadows has cast
Bound the sung little farm-house of good farmer
And outside the door in their quaint old arm-chairs,
He with redolent pipe, with ber knitting work she,
Sit the farmer and wife, thrown aside all their cares,
Contented and happy as happy can be.
As happy can be where anxiety is.
Tot a stout noble stripling, their one only son,
Is a volunteer in the army, and this
They are talking about now the day's work is done;
His regiment lately has been in a fight
At least such reports have come round to their cars
From their neighbors about and they can not feel
Till they hare some sure tidings to silence their
The gate-latch is suddenly lifted, and lo !
Straight up the broad path trip a pair of light feet,
And a bright girlish face, with rare pleasure aglow,
Gleams out through the mist, while a voice shyly
Cries with tremulous haste i 'Here's letter from
'A letter! ah mother, our boy's safe and well,
Come, let us go in now come, Ruthy, youll stay,
And hear what strange stories our aoldier Will
gair-an-hour has flown swiftly, and now it is night,
And dark too, for clouds have come up o'er the
The stare and the full moon are hidden from sight.
And the wiud tells of storm as it goes wailing by.
But within the old farm-house they care not how
The night is, for they have good news from their
- There are sounds of new gladness within there.
Let os steal in unseen, and share with them their
lo welcome ? no gladness ? no words of good cheer?
What means this strange silence? it can not be
The candle burns low on the table, and here
By its side like a statue, sits good fanner Best.
Sis dim eyes arc fixed as in death, on the floor,
" ' His rough hands hang heavily down by his side,
And his face wears the stamp of aa angnish so aore,
" That we shrink back in speechless alarm, terrified!
- Here opposite, motionless, silent as he,
Are his wife and the maiden their boy lores ; her
face . .. '
- In the pale mother's bosom is buried, and she
Bathesthe soft hair with tears that seem fitting
As she holds her with fond arms close pressed to
Ture sympathy 'mid all her woe living yet;
And here on the table, half-sundered apart,
Lies the letter she brought them, all crumpled
. I write on the eve of a battle, it reads,
T-atorrow, the first time, I go out to fight;
My courage ne'erfalters, and praiseworthy deeds
May wia for me coveted honor ere night
- I think set of death, I shall fight for God's truth,
5 For that truth which youjoin with my came when
My heart aches with longiag to see you and Ruth,
But I know all year bU-ssings will go with your
Some brotherly comrade has added beneath,
In a hasly and almost illegible way.
The rest of the sorrowful tale in abreath :
.' This letter is all that is left of poor Gay !
In the first of the fight, he was shot throuzh the
And cried, falling forward : I die for the truth !'
- I bore him away, and the last words he said
Were : ' Dear father, dear mother, take care of
To-day the sky is shrouded, thickand grey,
And nature droops her sad and downcast eyes,
Gazing anon with meek and mute surprise,
To watch the starry snow-fiukes whirl and play.
- Old Winter siU at last uponhis throne,
Grim, chilling, ghost-like, as in years gone by;
A freeiing smile lights up his shaggy eye,
HU roue is like the North wind's wailing moan.
And these bis messengers, gny, sprightly things,
Bring back rare memories in golden ahreds
Sweet chimes of silver bells, swift-flying sleds,
' And the long winter evening gatherings.
"K gush of merry voices fills the air,
' Gay shouts oflangbter echo far and near;
The children loTe the twilight of the yeai
Let ai be young with the m, and laugh at care.
Is ot lore a Hercules ?
Still climbing trees 1 the Hesperldes?
Subtle as Spicx, as sweet and musical
As bright Apollo, lute, strung with hair;
And when love r peaks, the voice of all the gods
21akos heuven drowsy with the harmony.'
We marched across the stormy isle with strong and
Though worn with toil and scantily supplied with
No itimulant but blood that burned oar suffering
nee to save
Following with joy oar yonthful chief to freedom
or the grave.
The post of honor he had churned that post for
as had won
To lead the van at Death's right hand, where blood
iest deeds are done;
I Foremost to pay oppression's debt ages of lash
' and chain
With the fierce cross of bayonet, the musket's
! deadly raiu.
Six hundred yards from Wagner's fort the storming
High courage kindling every eye and arming eve
u Xow, men, arise ! " our Colonel cries, " and show
your manhood's worth ;
Follow my path through life or death! "Forward
the Fifty-fourth !"
Then poured upon the dauntless heads of our ad
A fire more dread than rained of yore on Sodom's
From Punter's murder-waking throat, from Wag
ner's death-fraught hold,
From batteries near and points remote the iron
deluge rolled :
Sulphurous flames from countless guns illumed the
grim night air
No fitful Hath, but blazing on with one continuous
We staggered not we halted not for wounded
friend or dead
Through scourging shell and hissing shot toward
the foe we sped.
" Onward, my boys !" our leaders voice rings cheer
ily o'er the storm ;
"We'll gain the parapet, and there your shattered
Onward, my friends, my heroes, tome, fur every
For kindred, country, hearth and home, honor and
freedom, fight ! "
Rushing, as lions spring through fire, we gain the
In view of all the rebel crew the starry banner set.
"2?ow, hand to hand!" our leader cries, "what
though some brave men fall ?
Above their grave that flag shall wave which frees
and guards us all ! "
" Onward '." Ah me ! I saw him lie beside me
where I fell,
While bellowing o'er us shrieked and roared the
thundering bolts of hell!
From Sumter's treason-tainted walls, from Wag
ner's sand-built hold,
Through files of living, piles of dead, the fiery tem-
pesL rolled. " :
I strova to grasp his gallant hand to raise his
head once trore
"Onward!" That word had cleared his way to
the eternal shore.
What hopes went down with him ? But yet no step
we backward gave;
Our blood was pledged to him with him for free
dom or the grave.
Around him drew the rebel crew with curse and
gibe and jeer.
' That Yankee dog ! we'll bury him beneath his
Well dig a pit for twenty-one, and him the lowest
A score of blacks above his head to keep him down
O! glorious grave ! what monument of marble rich
Can with that wealth of loyal blood and faithful
"JSre perencius" eaerum eit 1 No tomb beneath
Shall true men honor more than that which holds
".Ere perennius ! " They shall live in many a
deathless song :
Renown shall lift their names from oat the unnamed
Embalmed with their devoted chief In everlasting
hat nobler resting-place than his could saint or
hero claim 1
"ire perenuius!" Monuments rock-sculptured
Bnt there are deeds whose praise shall lire through
heaven's unclosing day.
Martyrs for Truth and Right Divine! to God your
souls ye give,
And pledged your blood and kept the pledge for
The Fleeting—The Enduring.
BY LINA LINWOOD.
A shining bubble on a stream,
The gentlest breath will break ;
The golden treasure of a dream
Is fled when we awake ;
A dew-drop.in a flower's eye,
Flies on the wing of day ;
A rainbow in a summer eky,
How soon 'tis passed away !
The brightest honoi glory, too
ls but a breath of air ;'
The heart that yon may think most true
May harbor hatred there;
The golden crown that's won by strife,
Is lost as soon as won ;
And mortal's greatest treasure life,
" Is fled ere half begun.
But there's a stream whose bubbles float,
Nor dread the passing air;
And there's a dream, howe'er so bright,
Will wake to life more fair ;
And there's a land where dew-drops gleam
More brightly all the day,
And where the rainbow from the sky
Shall never pass away.
And there's a glory brighter far
Than la the sun at morn ;
And there's a heart within whose depth
Ko hate was erer born ;
And there's a crown of gold and gems,
Reserved for tue forgiven ;
And there's a life, a glorious life,
That knows no blight in heaven!
ZENAS CAREY'S REWARD.
Red and sullen, like the eye of some
baleful demon, the low sun glowed through
the tangled depths of the November woods,
casting bloody lines of light across the
fallen trees, whose mossy trunks were half
hidden in drifts of faded yellow leaves,
and evoked faint, sweet scents, like Ori
ent sandal-wood and teak, from a thousand
forest censers, hidden away, who knows
how or where. And above that line of
dull flaming fire the sky frowned a lead-cn-gray
concave, freighted, as the weather
wise could tell you, with snow-cakes suffi
cient to turn that broken forest into a fairy
grove of pearl and ermine. So the day
light was tbbing away from this Thanks
"Now I wonder where I am I" ' said
John Siddons, pausing abruptly in the
scarce visible foot path that wound among
the trees. "As completely 'turned round'
as though I stood in the deserts of Egypt !
I wish I had been sensible enough to keep
to the high-road : these short-cuts gener
ally turn out very long ones ! Ilowever,
if I keep straight ahead, I must inevita
bly emerge from these woods somewhere."
He sat down on a mossy stump, lean
ing his head carelessly on one baud, while
the other played unconsciously with the
worn brim of his blue soldier's cap a
slender, pleasant-faced young man, with
gray-blue eyes, and dark .hair thrown
back from a bronzed fcrchead, which had
been touched by the fiery arrows of many
a Southern sun in lonely swamps, and
along the fever -reeking shores of sullen
"Houseless homeless !" he murmured
to himself, "I wonder how many others
are saying the same thiug this Thanksgiving-eve.
To thitk that I should fight
through the campaign uohurt, and return
with an honorable discharge in my pocket
to a place where nobody knows or cares
whether I am alive or dead, while so many
brave fellows were shot down at my side
with bullets that tore through a score of
hearts at home, carrying sharper pangs
than death has to give 1 It's a queer
thing to have only one relative in the world,
and he a total stranger. If I find this
second-cousin of my father he'll probably
kick me out of doors for a shiftless, sol
diering vagabond. Bnt, hang it! a man
can't live alone like a tortoise in its shell.
I remember wondering, when I was a boy,
why the Madeira vines over the porch
stretched out their green tendrils, and
seemed to grope through the sunshine for
something to cling to. I think I under
stand it now."
He rose up and walked on through the
russet leaves that rustled, ankle-deep be
neath his tread, still musing musing;
trying to study out the unknown quanti
ties in life's great equation, while the sun
went down behind a bank of lurid clouds,
and the chill night wind began to sigh sor
rowfully in the tree-tnps. And suddenly
the sturdy woods tapered off into a silver
stemmed thicket of white birches and the
white birches fringed a lonely country
road with a little red house beyond,
whose windows were aglow with fire-light,
and whose door-yard was full of the pecu
liar perfume of white and maroon-blossom
Zenas Carey was leaning over the gate,
surveying the stormy sunset with critical
"I told Juelindy sol ejaculated Zenas,
apparently addressing himself to the crook
ed apple-tree by the road. "I'll bet my
best steer we have a good old-fashioned
fall of snow to keen Thanksgivin' with.
I smelt it in the air this mornin', but wo
men don't never believe nothin' until it
comes to pass under their noses, for "
I his rather obscure sentence was nipped
in the bud by a footstep at his side. Ze
nas turned abruptly to reconnoiter the new
"Will you be kind enough to give me a
glass of water, sir?" said John Siddons,
"Sartin, Sir!" said .Zenas. "So you're
a soldier, hey ?"
"A returned soldier," said Siddons,
draining the cool element from the cocoa
nut shell that always lay close to the well
curb at the side of the house.
"Goin'hometo keep Thanksgivin'?"
" Home ! Sir, I HAVE no homel" .
Siddons had spoken sharply, as if the
thought were goading to him. Zenas put
out his brown knotted hand and grasped
the retreating man's arm.
"My boyl" he said, with kindly abrupt,
ness, "you're a soldier, and to tell by your
looks I should guess you were about the
age of him that's buried at Gettysburg
my only son 1 I love that blue uniform for
Davie's sake, and if there's a soldier in
the world that hasn't a home to go to on
Thanksgivin'-eve, there's a corner for him
I by Zioas Carey's fireside. Come in, sir!
! come in ! You're as welcome as Cowers in
John looked into the wet eyes and
working face of the old farmer an instant
and accepted his invitation without an
What a cheerful change it was, from
the frosty air and chill twilight of the
lonely road to that bright kitchen with its
spotless board floor and fire of resinous
pine logs 1 And when Meliudy Carey drew
a hump-backed rocking chair to the hearth
for him, and spoke a word or two of wel
come, John Siddons wondered if the eyes
of the mother, who-died when he was a
babe had not beamed upon him just so !
" I told mother so this very mornin',"
said Zenas with a triumphant flourish of
his hand, as he stirred up the logs to a
waving, glorious sheet of flame. " Says I,
Melindy will kill thebiggest turkey, and
I'll pick out the yallerest pumkins on the
barn floor.' And says she, 'What for,
Zenas, when there's only us two to eat
'em?' and, says I, 'Mother,' says I, 'Da
vie was here with us last Thanksgivin'
with his new uniform, as brave and hand-
some as you'll often sea.'
don t cry.
Zenas interrupted himself to strike his
wife's gray hair with a strangely tender
touch, and went on:
" Says I, 'He's gone where it's Thanks
I givin' all the year round now, my poor boy
my brave boy ! but," says I, "we'll
ike somebody welcome for Davie's sake,
j make somebody
And now, sir, you'll
spend to-morrow with us, and tell me all
about the battle of Gettysburg: where Da
vie died, crying out with his last breath
n ot to let the flag be captured !"
Zenas' voice died out into a choking,
gasping sob. John Siddons laid his hand
softly on the rough, tcil-hardened hand
I of the farmer, while a pang of envy shot
through his heart. Ah ! it was almost
worth while being shot down in battle to
lie missed and mourned like dead David
"Oh, wife !" wailed Zenas, when John
Siddons had fallen asleep in the little cor
ner room that had been the lost boy's, "it
is almost like having Davie back again !
Wife, I fight my great sorrow down every
night, but every morning it rises up again
more stroug than ever ! God help us
God help every parent whose
home is made desolnte by the field of bat
tle!" Thanksgiving dawned through a white
whirlwind of driving snow that eddied
among the gnarled boughs of the apple-tree
in mad frolics, and edged the old stone
wall with dazzling ermine. And the fiery
sparks careering 6wiftly up Zena3 Carey's
wide chimney met the steadily falling snow
half-way and gave battle, while the hearth
glowed with rudJy brightness, as if it knew
all about the Governor's Proclamation,
and approved of it.
' You have a cozy little farm here, Mr.
Carey," said John, as they walked through
the snow-storm to the church, whose spire
nestled among the everlasting hills boyonJ.
"If I was only sure of it, sir," said
Zenas, with a sigh, , 'fliut I've been hard
put to it to get aloDg these times. Taxes
and such like come heavy on poor men,
and I've had a run o' ill luck, so that the
place is mortgaged to its full value, and to
a hard man, sir one that will sell the
home you've been born and brought up in
as soon as eat his breakfast, ?o he can make
money by it. It will be a black day for
Melindy and me when we have to leave
the Rock Farm; but it must come soon,
and I don't care what beco nes of me
artcrward. I tell you, sir, when a man
has lived to my age under one roof-tree he
don't take very kindly to bein' moved.
Men are like forest trees, sir ; you can
take a young 'un and do as you please
with it, but if you transplant an old 'un
it dies. Let's talk o' something else, Mr.
Siddons. I ought not to complain Thanks-givin'-day."
John looked with a feeliDg of actual
reverence at the hard-featured old man,
whose simple "soul, borne down as he was by
debt, and grief, and age, could still find
something to be thankful for.
The turkey and pumpkin-pies were smok
ing on the round table when John and
Zenas returned from church; and Mrs.
Carey bad brought out her best " flowing
blue" plates and her choicest oldtime sil
ver spoons in honor of their guest. . There
was no beverage but coffee that never
knew the shores of Java, and a pitcher of
cold sparkling cider; but champagne
could not have been more cordially dealt
out by Zenas ; and Mrs. Carey's smiling
kindness gave a flavor to the ckickorized
rye that is sometimes lacking in "egg-shell
The table wag cleared away, and they
were sitting round the fire, when the door
was opened and Deacon Evarts entered,
bringing a small snow-drift on the shoul
ders of his shaggy overcoat.
"Well, I am beat !" quoth Zenas.
" Take a cheer, Deacon. Let me hang
your coat afore the fire to dry.
"Can't 6tay," said the Deacon, giving
himself a shake, like a black water-dog on
its hind-legs. "I thought you'd like to
hear the news, so I jest dropped in on my
way to my darter's Thanksgivin' dinner."
" News? what news?" exclaimed Ze
nas, while his wife dropped her knitting.
"Do tell! then you hain't heerd?"
"I hain't heerd nothin' but the wind
a howlin' down thechimbly' and Elder
Smith's sarmon this mornin'," said Zenas,
a little impatiently.
" The Squire's dead, up to the great
"Dead!" You don't tell me so ! That's
the man I was a spcakin' of as holds my
mortgage !" explained Zenas, turning to
John Siddons. "And when did it hapnen,
" Died last night, sir. jast about night
fall, as quiet as a lamb. There wa'n't no
body with him but the old housekeeper
folks didn't s'pose he was dangerous.
And Lawyer Ovid says there's a reg'lar
will, aid he's left all his property to the
only relative he had liviu'; a solderin' feller
that he's never so much as seen oneSedge
wick, or Sibley, or what was his name
now ? Any how he's fell heir to all Squire
Peter Ailesford's property, and that'sa pret
ty consid'able windfall !"
" Was thenanie Siddons?" asked the sol
dier, who had hitherto listened to the con
versation in silence.
"That's it!" 6aid the Deacon, giving his
knee a sounding slap.
" Peter Ailesford was my father's cousin,"
said the young roan, quietly.
"Lando' Goshen!" ejaculated Deacon
Evarts, with growing veneration to the heir
for "the old fcquire s money. "iNow
reelly ! that's kind c-' providential, ain't it!
To think that you should be right here on
" I was in search of Mr. Ailesford'g house
when I met vou, sir,v said Siddons, turn
ing to Carey: "but as I was unaware what
sort of reception I might get, your kind in
vitation decided me to wait a day or two.
In vain the Deacon tried to "pump" the
young soldier. John Siddons was civilly
uncommunicative, and the Deacon finally
took leave, burning to unfold his budget of
"I hope, sir," said Carey, uneasily, when
they were once more alone, " you won't be
hard about that mortgage. I'm apoor man,
"Mr. Carey," said John, quietly,
shall burn that mortgage on this hearth the
very day I come into possession of my rela
tive's papers. No thanks, sir: I have not
forgotten that I was 'a stranger, and you
took me in.' Do you suppose I shall ever
cease to remember the welcome of tins
1 hanKsgiving-hearth .' l never knew cither
father or mother ; but to-day I have fancied
what theif kindness might have been."
"It was for Davie's sake!" sobbed Mrs.
Carey, fairly overcome.
"Then for your dead son's sake will y u
let me fill his plate toward you? Last night
death took from me the only one in the
world to whom I was allied by ties of blood ;
do not turn me from your hearts !"'
" The Lord bless thee the Lord make
his face to shine upon thee, my second son !"'
said the old man, solemnly.
Slowly the dusk gathered athwart (he
hills, with wailing winds and whirling drifts
of snow slowly the darkness Wrapped tbeui
round; but in Zenas Carey's steadfast soul
the light of an eternal Thanksgiving was
burning, and his wife, with tearful eyes,
mused upon her two soldier boys one dead
at Gettysturg, and the other sitting at her
Anecdotes of O'Connell.
Here is an instance of his ready tact and
infiuite resource in the defense of his client.
In a trial at Cork, for murder, the prin
cipal witness swore strongly against the
prisoner. He particularly swore that a
hat found near the place of the murder,
belonged to the prisoner, whose name was
" By virtue of your oath, you are sure
that this is the same hat? "
"Did you examine it carefully before
you swore in your information t'mt it was
the prisoner's ?"
" I did."
" Now, let me see," said O'Connell, as
he took up the hat, and began to examine
it carefully on the inside. He then spelled
aloud the name of James slowly, thus :
" Now, do you mean to say those words
were in the hat when you found it?"
" Did you see them there."
" I did."
" And this is the same hat ? '
"Now1, my lord," said O'Connell, hold
ing up the hat to the bench, " there is an
end to the case. There is no name what
ever inscribed in the hat!"
The result was an instant acquittal.
He was one day examining a witness,
whose inebriety, at the time to which the
evidence referred, it was essential to his
client's case to prove. He quickly discov
ered the man's character. He was a fellow
who maybe described as "half foolish with
"Well, Darby, you told the truth to
this gentleman ? "
" Yes, your honor, Counsellor O'Con
nelL" " How do yorrknow my name?"
" Ah ! every one knows our own pa
thriot." "Well, you are a good humored, honest
fellow ; now tell me, Darby, did you take a
drcpof anything that day."
" Why, your honor, I took my iihare of
a pint of spirits."
"Your share of it; now, by virtue of
your oath, was not your share of it all but
the pewter? "
" Why, then, dear knows, that's true for
The Court was convulsed at both ques
tion and answer. It soon, step by step,
came out that the man was drunk, and was
not, therefore, a competent witness. Thus
O'Connell won his case for his client.
Sir George Grey speaks with extra
ordinary volubility. On one occasion, to
en'orce his argument, he made use of a
simile. "If we throw a spark of fire into
a barrel of gunpowder we all know there
will be a dreadful explosion ; but we may
throw a blazing torch upon a turnpiko-road,
and the probability is that it will expire
harmlessly. 1 he stenographer went on
very well until he came to the blazing
torch on the turnpike-road ; but he could
not make out the end of the sentence. He
knew it was something about a blazing
torch ; but what it was he could not for the
life of him tell The sentence was deem
el too important to be left out; so he
wrote it as follows : "You may throw a
spark into a barrel of gunpowder, and it
will explode and cast devastation around ;
but if you place a blazing torch on a turnpike-road,
all that it will do will bo to
burn down the turnpike-gate."
Bodily Carriage. Instead of giving
all sorts of rules about turning out the toes,
and strengthening up the body,and holding
the shoulders back, all of which are im
practicable to many, because soon forgot
ten, or of a feeling of awkwardness and
discomfort which procures a "willing omis
sion ; all that is necessary to secure the
object is to hold up the head and move on,
letting the toes and shoulders take care of
themselves. Walk with the chin but
slightly above a horizontal line, or with
your eye directed to things a little higher
than your own head. In this way you will
walk properly, pleasantly, and without any
feeling of restraint or awkwardness.
Foote dined one day at Richmond.
When the landlord produced the bill,
Foote thought it very exorbitant, and
asked liis name. "Partridge, an't
please you," replied the host. " Tart
ridfe !'' said Foote; "it should b
Woodcock, by the length of
There are forty-two sovereigns in Eu
rope. In this country there are thirty
millions, and very few of them without a
From the Thirty-fourth Ohio.
CAMP TOLAND, Dec. 4, '63.
Editcs Sentinel: '
Having received, a 'few days ago, a
Prospectus of the XesiA Sextixel, and
feeling a great desire that it may be sue-
cessful, I will endeavor to write yon a few
lines from the distant Thirty-fourth Ohio,
although I am well aware of the fact that
letters from the army have become so nu-
mereus that they have ceased to be very
i interesting ; but as I have just returned
j from that part of Dixie where traitors
j grow to their full size, 1 thought I would
write and tell you how much of the ele
phant I saw.
It was on November 2J, that the Third
Cavalry Brigade of the Eighth Army
Corps, with one section of Simmon's Bat
tery, received orders to draw four days'
rations and two days' forage, and prepare
t0 immediately. About daylight,
on the morning ot ttie 6d, tlie brigade
was in motion. We started in the direction
of Gauley Bridge ; but where our destina
tion was to be was a matter of much
speculation. Some thought that we were
going direct to Burnside, others that we
would reinforce Grant ; but before we had
marched very far, by a kind of a flank
movement I made on the Colonel, I re
ceived the very gratifying intelligence,
that we were going to Lewisburg, and that
we were not to be alone, for at the foot of
Big Sewell Mountain, a brigade from Fay-
etteville would join us, and while, we at
tacked in front, General Averell was ex
pected to attack in the rear.
On the evening of the fourth day, we
came on the rebel " flying " pickets, and
without firing a shot, they lit out for a
more congeuial cliuie. Their outpost was
sixteen miles from Lewisburg, at Meadow
Bluffs. We encamped there for the night,
and the next morning at four, o'cloi k we
were again in motion. We fully expected
they Would come out to meet us at Brush
Mountain, where they have breast works
three miles long; but very much to our
surprise, when we arrived tbey were not
there. We moved forward a lit tie further
than usual, wondering what had become of
the boasted threats, that if we ever again
made our appearance in that section of the
country, that we should be annihilated, and
no mistake. When we arrived within
about four miles of Lewisburg, we could
see large volumes of smoke rising from the
direction of their camp, which convinced
us they were preparing to retreat. General
Duffie, seeing what was to be done must be
done quickly, ordered his brigade forward
on the trot, when arriving within about two
miles of the town, the General gave the
order to "Charge!" and away we went
as fast aa our horses could carry us. Just
as we arrived at the outskirts of the town,
the hoys raised a yell, thinking that it was
to be another Wytheville arrangement,
where they fired on us from every house.
But we were not long in finding that we
were mistaken, for as we went in at one
end of town, the rear guard of the rebels
was going out at the other. We gave
chase, but they having fresh horses, outran
us. After following them a few miles we
gave up the chase, and returned to town.
In their sudden retreat, they either forgot
to take their colors with them, or were
strongly pressed to get them away they
were left at least, and fell into our pos
session. We learned here that they had gone out
the day before to meet General Averel!,
but had got very badly whipped, and had
returned just in time to get out of General
Duffie's way. Averell captured about two
hundred and fifty men, besides killing and
wounding about three hundred.
General Averell's command consisted of
four regiments of cavalry, two of infantry,
and twelve pieces of artillery. General
Duffie had the Second Virginia Cavalry,
Thirty-fourth Ohio Mounted Infantry, and
one section of Simmon's Flying Artillery.
The brigade from Fayettevil'.e, under com
mand of Colonel White, was the Ninety
first and Twelfth Ohio Volunteer Infantry,
and one section of McMullen's Battery.
The rebels had everything fixed nicely
for winter, their quarters being just com
pleted in the most approved style. They
had houses built lor a brigade, but in their
sudden exit from them, they left all their
knapsacks and blankets, which added j
nicely to the flames, for they were soon all
fire. We destroyed everything that
could be of any benefit to them. We staid
two days m Lewisburg, then took up our
The second day after we started back, it
commenced snowing, and that night we
encamped between Big and Little Sewell
Mountains. I must say it looked a little
discouraging as I gazed cr und me. Not
a place but what was covered with snow;
the cold wind whistling through the leaf
less trees, and we shivering with the cold.
But this is no place to stand round like I
so we go to work building fires,
In a few minutes the camp gleams with
fires in every direction. On such occasions
rails burn well, even if they do come off
some rich traitor's farm. We brush away '
the snow, wrap ourselves in our blankets, 1
and lie down. Sleep soon shuts out the
scenes around us, and we are unconscious ,
that the bleak November winds are whist- i
ling a mournful r. quicm to the gonial rays j
of the summer's sun. Wc forget the dan-
we have passed through are all un-
conscious of the hardships that are to come. 1
There is one thing, though, we don't ;
forget an Eden spot away off yonder, .
whero every morn and eve a mother's ;
prayers ascend to God, that her son may
be spared to return to her home once ,
more a sister, who, when traitors first 1
dared to insult America's proud banner,
said, "Go!" and ever since has said
"Stay until this wicked rebellion is t
crushed to ri.-e no more." It is the
' place Where these stay that we don't
forget, while all else is forgotten. It is
! for the protection of these hemes that we
' have cheerfully eudured all the hardships
1 of a soldicT's life for more than two years,
and now that the great and giol man
1 t,,l,, I, .".a n1r..A r, . K.
I . e i i
a great many or us propose to do so, and
, those young men that are still at home, who
are hearty and rolfls', and have never yet
had the manhood to enlist, if they still
refusc t0 co,,ie ,0 our relicf 1 ho?s t,ut
uie mail, may not uiis ilium.
On the mornimr of the 13th, th"
brigade arrived at Charleston, and was le 1
through the str.e's by the Thirty-fourth's
Mounted Brass Band, playing " Three
Cheers for the Red, White and Blue,"
our banner floating proudly in the breeze,
while the rebel colors were dragged along
in the mud. The seeesh ladies (?) of
Charleston were tremendously mortified at
the sight of their flag trailing in the dustj
but they might as weil get used to it. for
they will see more humiliating sights thau
that before a year.
A Questions of Endurance.
Ihere is not a man, or a principle, or a
point in the horizon to which these despair
on ing rebels can look with the least hope of
aid, or comfort, or succor in their hour of
they found it," How long will they eon
ninnies, tinue to strnggle under such privations
against such odds, in so hopeless a cause?
The time has not come yet f r an honest
Northerner to cxprors hU opinion of the
courage and fortitude which the rebels have
displayed in this wretched contest. So long
as tho red hand of battle is uplifted they
are our crrmirs, whom it is our duty t
destroy nothing m re. When tho time
docs come as come h must that failure
aud disappointment and priv;.tkii and de
gcrs spair compel these poor people to abandon
the struggle into which a blind and bru'al
oligarchy precipitated them, they may rely
upon it that, in the words of that great
anil g od man, Henry Ward Beeeher, they
will find the fatted caif ready for them
throughout the North, and none more
readv to relieve their wants than the very
soldiers who are now cru.-hing in the side
of tho pasteboard Confederacy. Harper'.,
The war has now reached a p int at
which the continued resistance of the rebels
is a mere question of endurance. Tlity are
suffering privations as severe as were ever
borne by a beligerent people. Their' cur
rency is depreciated in the ratio of twelve,
to one, and while the soldiers and civil
employees of Government are paid in this
depreciated currency on the scale which was
fair when the currency was at or near par,
provisions, clothing, and all the necessaries
of life have adjusted themselves to the de
preciation, so that it takes a soldier's wages
for a month to support his family for a day.
Of manufactured articles boots, shoes,
dry goods, hardware of all kinds, agricul
tural implements, etc. the stock has fallen
so low that fabulous prices are asked and
obtained by its fortunate possessors. The
captnrs of Morris Island has nearly closed
the port of Charleston, and within a month
the blockade of Wilmington the only port
at which any considerable blockade running
is now done will also be sealed. When
this happens, co more foreign goods will
enter the Confederacy till the peace. On
the other hand, the loss of the Mississippi
Valley has cut off the chief supply of beef,
as the advance of Burnside has curtailed
the supply of cereals, and the occupation of
Chattanooga has deprived the rebel foun
dries of the coal which was essential to
their existence. Famine is so imminent at
Richmond that the rebel journals confers
their inability to feed the Union prisoners,
and it is seriously proposed that our Govern
ment should send them beef and bread
from Washington. The Governor of
Georgia admits that the stock of provisions
in that once opulent State is insufficient for
the wants of the population; and General
Bragg proposes a general seizure of the
lands in the Confederacy with a view to
their being exclusively used to raise food
for the army.
This picture is not exaggerated. Yet it
is hardly possible to conceive a more com
plete aggregate of wretchedness. Without
food, without clothes, without coal, without
hope of succor from abroad, and with the
ever-present Federal anaconda tightening
its grip around them week by week and
month by month, sometimes moving ilist,
sometimes slowly, but never losing an inch
of ground once occupied, can it be possible
to conceive a people in more cruel straits
lhan the rebels? How long can they en
dure such a complication of miseries ? To
which side shall they look for relief ?
Not to Europe, for there the rebel rams
have just been seized, and public opinion
seems to le once more turning against
them. Not to General Lee, for his second
attempt to invade the North and menace
Washington has proved only less disastrous
than his first, and he is now barely able to
cover Ilichmond by making more furtiic
acros in Virginia a barren desert. Not to
Bragg, for he, notwithstanding the victory
of Chickamauga, his been unable to wrest
the key of the Southwest Chattanooga
from the grasp of Grant, and he knows full
well that the nfxt move in the game will
be a resistless " unconditional surrender "
movement on Atlanta. Not to cavalry
raids and guerrillas, for they though an
noying to us do ni good to the rebels.
and, on the whole, are probably more
troublesome to Southern planters than to
Northern armies. Not to the Feaoe Dem
ocrats of the North, for the fail elections
have squelched them out pretty thoroughly.
They may burn a few trains, "gobble
up a lew commissaries, surprise a few
helpless detachments of thcUuion troops
nay, even wia a pitched battle or two here
or there; but what tlien '! In the truthful
language of the Ilichmond Examiner,
"Our (rebel) victories tuo somehow aiwavs
fruitless and unproductive of results; they
leave rue great qui-snon ot i:ie war wucru
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