BISHOP ROSECRANS.-As Bishop Rosecrans (brother of the General) was at dinner recently, the conversation reverted to the war. "It would seem to me, Bishop, that you and your brother, the General, are engaged in very different callings," remarked a gentleman. "Yes, it appears so," returned the Bishop. "And yet," he continued, “we are both fighting men. While the General is wielding the sword of the flesh, I trust that I am using the sword of the Spirit. He is fighting the rebels, and I am fighting the spirits of darkness. There is this difference in the terms of our service he is fighting with Price, while I am fighting without price.-New-York Evening Post, October 8. IN Bethel, Vt., on the twenty-second of September, Mr. David Owen was ridden upon a rail, because he declined to cheer the Stars and Stripes, and persisted in refusing to comply with the requests of a party who waited upon him at his residence, with the express intention of making him a Union man.-New-York Commercial, October 8. it will have become should the Yankees succeed in their scheme of subjugation. As for the rules of civilized war, we have this to say: A people who, for yoke of iron on our necks, are not entitled to their no justifiable cause whatever, have come to place a benefit. Moreover, those rules, as well as the ordinary obligations of humanity, have been entirely disregarded by the Yankees wherever they have succeeded in obtaining control. Witness their inhuman conduct at Nashville, Huntsville, New-Orleans, and elsewhere. Witness their attack with shell and shot upon Chattanooga, without a warning for the removal of the women and children. In addition to pitched battles upon the open field, let us try partisan ranging bushwhacking-and henceforward, until the close of this war, let our sign be, The Black Flag and no Quarter!—Jackson Mississip pian, June 10. REBEL CRUELTY.-A lady in Ulster County, N. Y., writes: "We have just received the horrid news of poor James Webster's death. He owned a farm in Virginia, was a Methodist minister, and a quiet Union man. The rebels took him while threshing in his barn, without allowing him even a change of clothing, drove him three days without eating, so that he died. He was my nephew."--New-York Tribune, June 11. WEST-POINTERS IN THE TWO ARMIES.-From a list before us of the West-Point graduates, who are officers in the armies of the United States and confederate States, it appears that there are in the United States army seventeen major-generals and twenty-four brigadier-generals; in the confederate States army, five generals (beside A. S. Johnson, killed at Shiloh,) eighteen major-generals, forty-one brigadier-generals. From this list, which ends with 1848, it appears that we have sixty-four generals from West-Point in our army, while the United States have but forty-one. It was no idle or unmeaning boast of President Davis that he had pick and choice of the officers of the old army. Notwithstanding the frequent flings at WestPointers, we may yet find it a cause of congratulation that we had at the head of our government one who was educated at West-Point himself, but who, by his service in the army and in the War Department, was so thoroughly acquainted with the military talent of all the United States officers.-Mobile Evening News, September 22. BUSHWHACKING AND THE BLACK FLAG.-Now is the time for bushwhacking and the black flag. Now is the time to punish, with the full measure of retributive justice, the Vandals who have dared to desecrate our soil for purposes of rapine, murder, and every manner of cruelty and outrage which illustrates the depravity and wickedness of human nature in its most degenerate form. It is not improbable that, by means of iron-clad boats, they will succeed, occasionally, in effecting landings upon the Mississippi River, with a view to predatory incursions into the interior. Nothing better could be desired. It will give each man, of whatever age, calling, or occupation, an opportunity to become at once an efficient soldier. He can take his gun, ascertain the places most likely to be frequented by the Yankee thieves, conceal himself in ravine, thicket, or undergrowth, and pick them off by the wholesale. This will be fine sport- better, indeed, than hunting wild game. And those engaged in it will have the satisfaction of knowing that whenever they bring one of these prowling beasts to the dust, much less. We know of one quiet but shrewd and resolute citizen in a certain region infested with these plunderers from Yankee land, who has bagged about a dozen of them. His example is commended especially to the people of the river counties; but not to them alone. Where the base hoof of a Yankee leaves its impress, there let his carcass be made to enrich the soil which he has come to plunder. Nor must their coming be awaited. Every part of our territory should alike be held sacred from such a loathsome presence. The Yankee generals, dreading the guerrilla and bushwhacking system of war, have indicated their purpose to retaliate, by seizing non-combatants and destroying property indiscriminately. It is not for our people to be deterred by this expedient. We must remember DERBY, Sept. 23. that our condition cannot possibly be made worse than-New-York World, October 10. the number of our remorseless enemies will be that A GALLANT DASH.-Capt. Frank Findlay, with his little company of Partisan Rangers, from Washington County, Va., nearly all of whom are youths under eighteen years of age, and attached to the State line service, made a dash into Wyoming County a few days ago, and captured Capt. Godfrey, a noted leader of a them into camp at Abb's Valley, where they are in Union company, and ten of his men. They brought limbo for the present.-Richmond Whig, September 6. ANOTHER PROCLAMATION WANTED. To the Editor of the World: My husband is an officer in the rebel army, and will never lay down his arms while Mr. Lincoln is President. There are many ladies in this State also who have husbands fighting against the North. As there is a proclamation to free the slaves of disloyal citizens, why can't we have a proclamation to free wives from disloyal husbands? EUNICE. MOBILE, October 3.-Brute Butler has issued an order (No. 76) requiring all persons in New Orleans, male or female, eighteen years of age or upwards, who sympathize with the Southern Confederacy, to report themselves by first October, with descriptive lists of their property, real and personal. If they renew their allegiance to the United States Government, they are to be recommended for pardon; if not, they will be fined and imprisoned, and their property confiscated. The policemen of the city are charged with the duty of seeing that every householder enrols his property in the respective districts.—Richmond Inquirer, October 6. A BRILLIANT EXPLOIT.-One of the coolest and most extraordinary exploits of the war is thus described in a letter by Brig.-Gen. Brown, dated Springfield, Mo. After a preliminary description of an engagement with the rebels, eighteen miles from Newtonia, Gen. Brown proceeds: "The General (Schofield) sent Lieutenant Blodgett, attended by an orderly, with orders to Colonel Hall, Fourth Missouri cavalry, to move to the left and attack in that direction. The route of the Lieutenant was across a point of woods, in which, while passing, he suddenly found himself facing about forty rebels drawn up in irregular line. Without a moment's hesitation, he and the orderly drew their pistols and charged. At the same time, tempering bravery with mercy, and not feeling any desire to shed blood needlessly, he drew out his handkerchief and waved it in token of his willingness to surround and capture the whole rebel force rather than shoot them down. "The cool impudence of the act nonplused the foe, and perhaps thinking there was a large force in the rear, eight of them threw down their arms and surrendered, and the balance 'skedaddled.' It is difficult to say which I admired most in the Lieutenant, his bravery in making the charge against such odds, when to have hesitated a moment was certain death, or his presence of mind and coolness in offering them their lives. The orderly, too, deserves more than a passing notice. His name is Peter Basnett, and he was at one time Sheriff of Brown County, Wis. The Lieutenant and orderly were well matched-both quiet and determined BY JOHN G. WHITTIER. The flags of war like storm-birds fly, No earthquake strives below. And, calm and patient, Nature keeps Though o'er her bloom and greenness sweeps The battle's breath of hell. And still she walks in golden hours And still she wears her fruit and flowers What means the gladness of the plain, Ah! eyes may well be full of tears, She meets with smiles our bitter grief, Still, in the cannon's pause, we hear Her sweet thanksgiving-psalm; Too near to God for doubt or fear, She shares the eternal calm. She knows the seed lies safe below The fires that blast and burn; From all the tears of blood we sow, She waits the rich return. She sees with clearer eye than ours Oh! give to us, in times like these, Oh! give to us her finer ear! Above the stormy din, We, too, would hear the bells of cheer Ring peace and freedom in! A RECRUITING RALLY. Men of Maine! men of Maine! Our country calls her sons to the field: Leave your work, leave your plough, For Dirigo's emblazed on Maine's shield. Hold not back, hold not back, What they built we renew, Freedom's pure flame, of liberty's fires. As our pine, as our pine, Always shine, always shine, Ever verdant, amid winter's blast; Let our faith in the right Make us stand to the fight, Not relax while the battle doth last. Sons of Maine! Sons of Maine! Not in vain, not in vain, Let our brothers encamped call for aid; Let the Seven Thousand* charge! With the ONE-ARMED, at their targe, And rebellion at our feet will be laid. PORTLAND. A SONG WITHOUT A TITLE. COMPOSED BY J. FERGUSON, CO. A, TWENTY-FIRST REGIMENT INDIANA VOLUNTEERS. TUNE-Happy Land of Canaan. The rebels are enraged, To think we are engaged In trying to put down this cursed rebellion; Turn out to a single man, To drive them to the happy Land of Canaan. We will show you that we're right, And we'll blow you to the happy land of Canaan The rebels soon will find That the Yankees are the kind Of men to put down this rebellion; Until we send them to the happy land of Canaan. But we'll make you rebels run, Or we'll blow you to the happy land of Canaan. Jeff Davis, he is wise, At least in rebel eyes; He is waiting for some foreign intervention. We will whip him like all sin, And send him with the rebels down to Canaan. Oh! oh! oh! Ye rebels, don't you know A good time for the Yankees is a-coming? The rebs may make a noise, But the Yankees are the boys To drive them to the happy land of Canaan. It makes the rebs look sad To think that Lincoln had Oh! oh! oh! Ye rebels, don't you know A good time for the Yankees is a-coming? We will make you face about, And march you to the happy land of Canaan. The happy time has come, And the rebels are undone, Their conscription no longer will sustain them; We will show them how the South And Jeff Davis are played out Since they started from the happy Land of Canaan En route for the happy land of Canaan. AN APPEAL. BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. Listen, young heroes! your country is calling! Leave not your children a birthright of shame! Stay not for questions while Freedom stands gasping! Break from the arms that would fondly caress you! Never or now! cries the blood of a nation, Now is the day and the hour of salvation- O'er the deep ooze where the Cumberland lies! From the hot plains where they perish outnumbered, Furrowed and ridged by the battle-field's plough. Comes the loud summons; too long you have slumbered, Here the last Angel-trump-Never or Now! DIRGE FOR A SOLDIER. BY GEORGE H. BOKER. Close his eyes; his work is done! What to him is friend or foeman, Rise of moon, or set of sun, Hand of man, or kiss of woman? Lay him low, lay him low, As man may, he fought his fight, Lay him low, lay him low, In the clover or the snow! Fold him in his country's stars, Roll the drum and fire the volley! Lay him low, lay him low, What cares he? he cannot know: Leave him to God's watching eye, Trust him to the hand that made him. Mortal love weeps idly by: God alone has power to aid him. Lay him low, lay him low, In the clover or the snow! Antistrophe: The sound of mourning! dear homes ruthlessly Laid waste! for Death and Hell walk hand in hand! Sackcloth and Ashes! Bend the stubborn kneeWoe is thy heritage, thou goodly land. EPODE. O bleeding land! there is, that bringeth cheer; O mourning heart, be still! The gloomy night, Come, quickly come, light of the glorious day! Arise, and gird your loins, ye men of might! Earth trembling, hope, heaven, bide the end; hear ye! Go forth, great-hearts! Do battle for the right! Go forth, and faint not: "God and Liberty!" "Thine is the fight, O God." For liberty To worship thee in peace, we draw the sword; Thy cause shall fail not, save ordained by thee; Even as the sparrow falls but by thy word. Grant thou, All-Merciful! thy mercy to us, EDMUNDUS SCOTUS, Ninth Illinois Cavalry. CHICAGO, November 27, 1862. FREDERICKSBURGH. BY W. F. W. Eighteen hundred and sixty-two- And it is but a handful, the telegrams add, Covered-but only in front-with scars. Some are wounded by Minié shot, Others are torn by the hissing shell, Others are crushed by the horses' hoof; Orders arrived, and the river they crossed-- Sudden flashed on them a sheet of flame Fifteen thousand in wounded and killed, At least, is "our loss," the newspapers say. This loss to our army must surely be filled Against another great battle-day. "Our loss!" Whose loss? Let demagogues say That the Cabinet, President, all are in wrong. What do the orphans and widows pray? What is the burden of their sad song? 'Tis their loss! But the tears in their weeping eyes They cannot discriminate men or means They only demand that this blundering cease. In their frenzied grief they would end such scenes, Though that end be-even with traitors-peace. Is thy face from thy people turned, O God? Is thy arm for the Nation no longer strong? We cry from our homes-the dead cry from the sod- THE EAGLE OF CORINTH.* Did you hear of the fight at Corinth, How we whipped out Price and Van Dorn? Ah! that day we earned our rations(Our cause was God's and the Nation's, Or we'd have come out forlorn !) A long and a terrible day! And, at last, when night grew gray, By the hundred, there they lay, (Heavy sleepers, you'd say)— That wouldn't wake on the morn. Our staff was bare of a flag, In those brave marching days- And an eye of awful gaze! The grape it rattled like hail, The wads were blowing like chaff, 'Twould have made you cheer and laugh, "The finest thing I ever saw was a live American eagle, carried by the Eighth Iowa, in the place of a flag. It would fly off over the enemy during the hottest of the fight, then would return and seat himself upon his pole, clap his pinions, shake his head and start again. Many and hearty were the cheers that arose from our lines as the old fellow would sail around, first to the right, then to the left, and always return to his post, regardless of the storm of leaden hail that was around him. Something seemed to tell us that that battle was to result in our favor, and when the order was given to charge, every man went at them with fixed bayonets, and the enemy scattered in all directions, leaving us in possession of the battle-field."-Letter from Chester D. Howe, Co. E, Twelfth Illinois Volunteers. To see, through that iron gale, To right and to left he'd soar, All that day, I tell you true, They had pressed us, steady and fair, They reckon they've got us now! For the next half-hour twill be warmAy, ay, look yonder !—I vow, If they weren't secesh, how I'd love them! (Our eagle whirling above them,) To take Robinette by storm! They're timing!-it can't be longNow for the nub of the fight! (You may guess that we held our breath,) By the Lord, 'tis a splendid sight! A column two thousand strong Marching square to the death! On they came, in solid column, But a grim wake settled behind 'em- (Where our dead and dying lay Up to Robinette, all the way The dreadful swath kept growing! Now for it, at Robinette! Not a lisp for quarter or favor)- And waved their bit of a flag What could be finer or braver! But our cross-fire stunned them in flank, Our Bird did circle and wheel!) Now for the bayonet, boys! Ah! well-you know how it endedWe did for them, there and then, But their pluck, throughout, was splendid. (As I said before, I could love them!) They stood, to the last, like menOnly a handful of them Found the way back again. |