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Civil War Harper's Weekly, September 21, 1861

This original Harper's Weekly newspaper contains important news and illustrations of the Civil War. We have posted all this collection to help your research and study on the Civil War. These newspapers help you understand the war, by allowing you to watch it unfold as it happened.

(Scroll Down to see entire page, or Newspaper Thumbnails will take you to the page of interest.)

 

Army Forge

Army Forge

Rebellion

Ending the Rebellion

McClellan Sabath

McClellan Asks that Sabbath by Observed

Fremont in St. Louis

General Fremont in St. Louis

Fort Hatteras

Surrender of Fort Hatteras

Fort Clark

Fort Clark

Bockade of Charleston

The Blockade of Charleston

Potomac River

Potomac River Map

Des Moines, Iowa

Des Moines, Iowa

Making Muskets

Muskets

Armory

Springfield Armory

King Cotton

King Cotton

 

 

 

 

 

 

SEPTEMBER 21, 1861.]

HARPER'S WEEKLY.

603

Jones encouraging them. But four were already down, wounded, on the floor ; one of them mortally hurt, to judge by the blood that bubbled from his lips as he gasped for breath. I knelt beside the poor wretch, to offer such unskillful help as I could afford, when there was a crash, a whoop, and a rush, and the barricade was scaled or forced, and the citizens came pouring in, furious as a storming party. Borne down, trampled, sick, and giddy, I was dragged from the scuffle, and found myself in the street, pinioned, and a prisoner. Beside me were the majority of my new acquaintances, tattered, bruised, and their faces hardly to be seen through their masks of blood and gunpowder. They were all bound and captive.

"Drag 'em forward. Up to the big oak. The court sits theer !" bawled fifty voices ; and we were roughly hauled or pushed to a grassy space, where a huge solitary tree spread its branches, while under its shade stood a score of farmers and boatmen, well armed, and I saw with horror a rope and running noose to every branch strong enough to serve as an impromptu gallows.

" Silence for Judge Lynch !" bawled an amateur crier.

A gaunt farmer represented the redoubtable Judge, and addressed the assembly.

" Fellow-citizens, I'm no forky-tongued lawyer, nor yet no stump speaker, but it's easy to clap the saddle on the right hoss. We've had our hosses stole, our niggers 'ticed away, our liquor hocussed, and our dollars spirted out of our pouches. That's bad enough, but when it ken's to blood—"

Here a roar drowned the orator's voice. Next the crier shouted that the jury had been impanneled, and the prisoners must be put to the bar. I was thrust forward with the rest.

" Guilty, or not ?" was the stern demand.

Some of them trembled very much. Jones and Phillips were calm, but it was the calm of desperation.

" Guilty, or not guilty ?"

" Bring the farce to an end," cried Jones. " You've got us;

more ass I to run back into the trap. Do your worst!"

" Are those ropes ready aloft there ?" Judge Lynch called out. "All ready, Judge," was the rejoinder.

" Then, gentlemen of the jury, your verdict."

" Guilty ! All guilty !"

The Judge exclaimed, "I kin pass but one sentence. Death ! A halter apiece, and a good riddance to the city and State!"

A yell of approval broke forth : we were hustled beneath the tree, and a halter soon encircled every neck. Then I found my voice, and loudly appealed : protesting my entire innocence, and that I was a harmless traveler, an Englishman, and so forth. A peal of incredulous laughter decided my appeal.

" Britishers ain't licensed to rob and murder, yell larn to your cost," said an old farmer, who held me.

" Smother the hypocrite!" exclaimed a boatman.

" Did ye hear the cantin', cowardly skunk," cried another fellow.

" Can't ye take pattern by your captain, Jones there, and die like a man ?"

My eyes following the man's pointed finger, I beheld the blackened face and staring eyeballs of my late acquaintance, as his struggling body dangled some yards above.

"Now for Phillips," was the cry ; and I closed my eyes, not to see the wretch's execution.

" Morgan third ; the Britisher fourth !" announced Judge Lynch. " Up with Phillips ! Haul and hold."

"Tchick !" cried somebody, with an unfeeling laugh. "Whisht! howld your sneaking tongue, not to mock the dyin'," sternly replied some honest Patlander hard by.

" Now, Morgan !" was the next summons.

" Hyar's the deputy-sheriff!" cried a voice, as a horse was heard galloping.

"What o' that ?" replied another ; " the sovereign people ain't to be choused out o' their revenge. Besides, Willy Hudson's a good fellow."

Willy Hudson! All the blood rushed from my head to my heart, and back again, and I tingled from head to foot. My name was Hudson—my brother's name was William ! One glance was enough, as a sun-browned horseman dashed into the crowd. It was Willy—the brother I had come to visit—just in time ! I forgot exactly what was done and said. I only know that in about two minutes I was unbound, safe, free, arm in arm with my brother, and that the rough fellows who had been about to hang me were nearly wringing my hand off as they shook it, begging pardon for an awkward mistake. It was not only to me that Willy rendered service : I twitched his sleeve, and begged him to do what he could for the miserable men, whatever their faults, still under sentence. He pushed me into a tavern parlor, shut the door, went out, and left me. I heard shouts, laughter, groans, the applause, the mutterings of a mob. After a long time Willy returned, wiping his face with a handkerchief, very much flushed and disheveled.

"Wagh !" he exclaimed, "what a tough job ! But it's done now, though my tongue aches with the talking. I did it for you, George, my boy, and luckily I'm in favor here. Tar and feathers, instead of hanging, and nine-and-thirty with a cowhide, well laid on, will spoil their beauty for one while. But how came you to be with them ?"

"First, Willy, tell me what brought you here ? I thought the bank at New Orleans—"

"Pooh!" interrupted my Americanized brother ; " an old story that ! It broke down, paying assets and no more. I'm here, agent for a goods insurance company. I'm doing well, and I'm deputy-sheriff. Didn't you get my letter at New York ? But how about your being with those rascals, of whom two have been hanged and four shot, I hear, eh ?"

"Why, they told me they were sportsmen, Willy, and—"

"You green-horn !" said my brother, good-humoredly; " were you thinking of fox-hunting or partridge-popping? 'Sportsman,' in America, means sharper, gambler, thief, swindler, gallows-bird!"

I did not stay long at Grand Gulf.

IOWA VOLUNTEERS.

PAGE 604 we devote to illustrations of the IOWA VOLUNTEERS. Our first picture, from a sketch by Mr. H. C. Ford, of Davenport, represents the RETURN TO DAVENPORT OF THE MEN OF THE FIRST IOWA VOLUNTEERS, who staid beyond their time in order to share the fortunes of the brave fellow's who fought under Lyon at Springfield. A Davenport correspondent writes us as follows about their reception :

A procession was immediately formed, consisting of 1200 soldiers then in Camp McClellan (the number has since been increased), the Fire Companies, Turners, and other associations, with many citizens, and thousands in attendance. They passed under the " Triumphal Arch," of which I send a hasty pen-and-ink sketch, which was erected at the corner of Main and Second streets, and through all the principal streets of the city finally proceeding to the court-house yard, where they were addressed by Judge Dillon, and then partook of a splendid dinner prepared by the ladies.

Our other picture, from a daguerreotype by Mr. T. P. Sharman, of Des Moines, represents the DES MOINES CAVALRY COMPANY leaving for the war. They are to form part of the Second Iowa Regiment, and are a gallant body, of men.

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