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for me that I have never been an
"But, papa, we don't want all
"Yes, yes; it is all right. You
shall go into their family as a well-portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady
Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more
kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way
of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?"
Some country people at work at
the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their
bright, happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the
Wilkins's family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been
fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a
yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had
always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no
care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And in sad
acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and
ditching in silence.
And yet, if they had known—if the
poor did know—the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had
foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its
cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible......
Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let Let no man be envied till
Ellinor had no more rides with
her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the
summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off, and
discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far
away for any thing but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would
make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time
came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the
weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to
lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his
spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He
seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the
servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness,
they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all
sorts of things seemed to annoy him.
"You should get the master to
take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day, as he was putting Ellinor on
her horse. "He is not looking well. He is studying too much at the office."
But when Ellinor named it to her
father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride
out whenever they liked—men had something else to do, and then, as he saw her
look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that
Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and
altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he
thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who
was master, senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate.
Ellinor sighed a little over her
disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little
regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her
father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the
exercise of which Ellinor could not help thinking was a very impertinent line of
conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior.
There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks
about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and
careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not
irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was
late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-of-door exercise a
trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the
day. All sound of winter gayeties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners,
had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor
had a secret perennial spring of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of
Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and
indistinct gloom. He loved her—and oh, how she loved him! and, perhaps, this
very next autumn—but that depended on his own success in his profession. After
all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that
she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley
to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the
time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof.
IN vindication of the series of
pictures on pages 88 and 89, which illustrate Southern chivalry, we present
below a few extracts from the history of the war.
Jeff Davis, in his proclamations, has
constantly endeavored to make it appear that whereas the war was waged with
chivalry and gentleness by the South, it was carried on with every circumstance
of atrocious savagery by the Union troops. Here are a few examples of the
chivalry of which the rebel boasts.
BARBARITIES AT MANASSAS.
The Senate committee, appointed
to inquire how the rebels had treated our dead on the field of Manassas or
Bull Run, say in their report:
The rebels manifested a fiendish
spirit in their treatment of our dead. Bodies were pried out of their graves,
and Mrs. Pierce Butler, who lives near the place, said that she had seen the
rebels boiling portions of the bodies of our
dead in order to obtain their
bones as relics. They could not wait for them to decay. She said she had seen
drumsticks made of Yankee shinbones, as they called them. She had seen a skull
that one of the
New Orleans Artillery had, which he said he was
going to send home and have mounted, and that he intended to drink brandy punch
out of it the day he was married. Many of the bones had been manufactured into
The outrages upon the dead will
revive the recollections of the cruelties to which savage tribes subjected their
prisoners. They were buried, in many cases, naked, with their faces downward.
They were left to decay in the open air, their bones being carried off as
trophies, sometimes, as the testimony proves, to be used as personal adornments;
and one witness deliberately avers that the head of one of our most gallant
officers was cut off by a secessionist, to be turned to a drinking-cup on the
occasion of his marriage. Monstrous as this revelation may appear to be, your
committee have been informed that during the last two weeks the skull of a Union
soldier has been exhibited in the office of the Sergeant-at-Arms of the House of
Representatives, which had been converted to such a purpose, and which had been
found on the person of one of the rebel prisoners taken in a recent conflict.
The testimony of Governor Sprague, of Rhode Island, is most interesting. It
confirms the worst reports against the rebel soldiers, and conclusively proves
that the body of one of the bravest officers in the volunteer service was
burned. He does not hesitate to add that the hyena desecration of the burned
corpse was because the rebels believed it to be the body of Colonel Slocum,
against whom they were infuriated for having displayed so much courage and
chivalry in forcing his regiment fearlessly and bravely upon them.
HORRIBLE TREATMENT OF THE WOUNDED.
A dispatch from
Murfreesboro, dated December 31, says:
The enemy during yesterday
harassed our rear with their cavalry, and captured some of our wounded men near
Rebel guerrilla bands attacked and burned our
army wagons, ambulances, etc., and acted most outrageously, throwing the sick
and wounded into the roads to die.
Major Slenmer and Captain King,
who were being conveyed away wounded from the battle-field in an ambulance, were
captured by the rebels, taken four miles away, and then paroled and thrown out
on the road.
The Medical Director of
General Grant's army, in an official report
Holly Springs on 30th December, says:
I received the assurance by
General Van Dorn's Adjutant that the Armory Hospital should not be burned, but
that it should be protected by a guard. Satisfied with this, I returned to my
quarters, but had not been there an hour when I was informed that the building
was in flames; and thus this fine structure, with two thousand bunks, an immense
lot of drugs and surgical apparatus, thousands of blankets, sheets, and
bed-sacks, was soon in ashes.
This proceeding, in violation of
an express promise, and of all rules of civilized warfare, is an evidence of the
barbarity and want of principle in the Confederate officers. But this was not
all. An attempt was made to destroy the General Hospital, located on the main
square, and which at the time contained over 500 sick.
A quantity of ordnance stores had
been deposited in a building on the next block to the hospital, and by the order
of General Van Dorn, as stated by the officer who had charge of the matter, the
barrels of powder and boxes containing shell and cartridges were taken out and
piled up nearly in front of the hospital and set fire to.
Two medical officers protested
against this wanton act, but their requests were treated with contempt, and
before there was time to remove the sick the walls and windows of the hospital
were riddled with flying balls and shell, and finally a terrific explosion took
place which shook the entire building, destroying almost every window and door
in the establishment, wounding about twenty men, and creating a scene of the
A large number of buildings on
the public square took fire from the explosion, and it was only by the utmost
efforts that the hospital was preserved as a shelter for the men in the night
Together with the medical
officers who assisted me in caring for the sick and wounded on that trying day,
I thought that the rebels had now done us all the harm in their power, but to
injury insult was to be added in a manner I hope never to witness again. A rebel
cavalry officer named Brewster, who stated he had been detailed by General Van
Dorn to "march off every sick man that had not been paroled, collected together,
pistol in hand, about 150 sick soldiers, forced them to rise from their beds and
fall in line, threatening to shoot the medical officer who expostulated with
him, and actually made the poor fellows, suffering from typhoid fever,
pneumonia, and diarrhea, start with him on the road. The men fell down in the
street and had to rise again for fear of being shot, when they were so weak that
the slightest motion was agony. On being importuned if there was any thing in
the name of humanity that could be done to stop his brutal proceedings, he
finally consented to let them alone on receiving a paper, signed by all the
surgeons present, stating that the men were too sick to walk, and their removal
was an impossibility.
A newspaper correspondent writes:
One of the enemy's cavalry rode
up to a wagon containing a wounded German soldier of Captain Langworthy's
company, Second Wisconsin regiment, and, dragging him out by the hair of the
head, piercing him through the body with his sword, yelling, "I'll teach you d—d
black Abolitionists to come down here to fight us." The trooper then rushed upon
the driver of the wagon, and, with a back cut of his sabre, nearly severed the
man's head from his body, and he fell lifeless among his horses.
At the battle of Bull Run, an
Ohio surgeon detailed for duty in a hospital, testified that it was assiduously
shelled by the rebels while the wounded of both armies were being cared for in
The Philadelphia Inquirer
contained the following, shortly after the battle:
A lieutenant of an Ohio regiment,
now in this city, and who was at the battle of Bull Run, states that he saw
several of our wounded bayoneted and having their throats cut by the members of
the Alabama and Georgia regiments. The poor fellows begged for their lives, but
their pleadings were disregarded, and with an oath the death-wound was
MURDERS OF DEFENSELESS MEN.
The following account of the
Murder of Robert L. McCook is in point:
On Tuesday last
General Robert L.
McCook, who was at the time very sick, was in an ambulance near Salem, Alabama,
on his way to his brigade. The ambulance was traveling over the usual military
road, and about ten o'clock in the morning it arrived at a plantation where
there was an abundance of water. After refreshing themselves they passed on with
the wounded General. Intelligence of his whereabouts and condition was quickly
spread, it is supposed, for before the ambulance had proceeded three miles the
driver discovered that he was pursued by guerrillas.
It was impossible to think of
flight, and Gen. McCook's condition prohibited any idea of rescuing him. The
guerrilla leader ordered the ambulance to stop, the assassins at the same time
surrounding it. The vehicle was then upset, and the sick officer turned into the
road. While on his knees, helpless and sick, he was fired at by a ruffian, and
shot through the side.
The wound was fatal, General
McCook surviving it but a few hours. He bore his sufferings heroically, and to
the last manifested an undaunted spirit. His last words were: "Tell Aleck
(alluding to his brother,
General Alexander McDowell McCook) and the rest that I
have tried to live like a man and do my duty."
Commissary Packham, of Piatt's
Zouaves, communicates the following narrative of the murder of two members of
that regiment by
rebel guerrillas in Western Virginia:
A few days ago John Costallo and
John Cerbe, Company
Page) rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or
engraving he might take a fancy to, irrespective of the price, run away with the
money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago Mr. Wilkins had
been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment—retrenchment which only
lasted about six weeks—by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation, in which
he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his
habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted
himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living, by
remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large
property; and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet that his mother's
estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already informed Ellinor's father, on
first hearing of her engagement.
Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he
could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite
dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his
affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more
than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was
made he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the
subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in
suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times that she was
with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the
conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at
heart. Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent
the letter, of which I have already spoken, to her father, telling her of its
contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to
use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake — his, her lover's—who was
pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not
there. He did not care for money, save as for a means of hastening their
marriage: indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small, some time
for their marriage fixed, however distant, he could be patient. He did not want
superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money
enough would he theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies and the
certainty of his finally possessing Bromley.
Ellinor delayed replying to this
letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she
perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed
her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself
for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and
look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle
between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and
graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as
usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own:
although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the
previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her
father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to
neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter and her father's
silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly,
and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but
the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin
talking gayly about the small topics of the day.
At length Mr. Corbet grew
impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently
to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his
father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins, which
should be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the
Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr.
Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this money, which
would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably
increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made.
The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous that
Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale
cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience,
and this immediate transfer of ready money was, as a sacrifice, a soothing balm
to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of
action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some
rough calculations on a piece of paper—deeds, and all such tests of accuracy
being down at the office—discovered that he could pay down the sum required;
wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor
into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing, and tell him what
she thought of it. He watched the color come rushing into her white face, her
lips quiver and tremble, and even before the latter was ended she was in his
arms, kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words.
"There, there!" said he, smiling
and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted
father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as wobegone this
week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of
money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time
"Oh, papa! I was only afraid you
"Well, if I was a bit perplexed,
seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet,
I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well
D, with a loyal Virginian named
Collins, attached to Company G as guide, were sent after a detachment of the
Second loyal Virginia Cavalry, whom our colonel desired to he nearer our lines.
When about 16 miles from camp they suddenly came upon a party of rebel militia,
who fired, wounding the Virginia guide. Costallo and Cerbe instantly returned
the fire, but before they could reload they were overpowered and taken to a Mrs.
Gilkinson's. Next morning the rebels consulted upon the disposal of their
prisoners. Some were for sending them to
Richmond, some to their own
head-quarters at Logan Court House, some for killing them, and Mrs. Gilkinson,
to the eternal disgrace of Southern female fiends, wished one to be killed on
her porch, so that she could dance in his blood.
The killing was done in the
following manner, communicated to me by H. Mays, in our hospital, a short time
before he died, from a wound he had just received while attempting to escape
from the guard-house.
These are his dying words:
In the morning we took one up the
run, a quarter of a mile from Mrs. Gilkinson's mill, tied his legs, and fixed
him to a tree. Bill Pritchet, Lew Pritchet, Isam Miller, and Stevens, walked off
a piece, and shot at him till they killed him. Question. Did you shoot? Answer.
No; I and three others stood by; we all went back to Mrs. Gilkinson, got the
other Zouave, brought him up the run, and he was killed. Q. Did you try to
prevent them being shot in that manner? A. Yes. Q. Did either of the poor
fellows say any thing while they were being so slowly and cruelly murdered? A.
Yes; for as we took the last one up the run, past the first one shot, who lay at
the tree, he stopped, looked at the dead body, and said, O God! don't murder me
that way: I can die like a soldier, but, for God's sake, don't murder me; shoot
me here! and he unbuttoned his Zouave jacket, and tore open his shirt. Q. Did
you not persuade your men to have mercy, and grant the poor fellow his wish? A.
Yes; I said I would see him safe to Logan; but they fixed him to a tree, and
shot him. Q. How many times was he hit before he died? A. They had about three
shots apiece at him. Q. Did most of the balls hit him? A. Yes. Q. Did they shoot
at him after he was dead? A. No. Q. What became of Collins, the Virginian? A.
They kept teasing him at Mrs. Gilkinson's till near noon; then took him away up
the run, and killed him. I did not shoot once; all the shooting was done by the
two Pritchets, Miller, and Stevens. Pritchet said they were to see who could hit
nearest his heart without killing him. Q. How many times do you think the boys
were hit? A. All the men shot three times; they hit every time. My name is Mays.
I live on the Beech Fork. It is true.
The wretch soon died. Since
writing the above our scouts have returned. They have killed Lew Pritchet, and
got 13 prisoners, among whom we are in hopes to find all the abettors in the
above horrible affair.
A. PACEHAM, Piatt's Zouaves,
Commissary Thirty-fourth Regiment
A correspondent from the West
The Committee under the
resolutions of inquiry are receiving testimony from Pea Ridge, showing
incontestibly that there our dead were not only scalped by the rebels' Indian
allies, but in other respects outraged.
You will of course have heard of
the fact that the rebels had some three thousand Indians under the command of
Albert Pike. Also that some twenty of our men who fell in the engagement under
Colonel Osterhaus on Friday, and under General Davis on Saturday, and had the
misfortune to be left on the field, were foully and fiendishly scalped,
murdered, and robbed by these red-skinned wretches.
CONTRABANDS DRIVEN SOUTH OR SHOT.
A correspondent from Murfreesboro
All "contrabands" captured by the
rebels on the Federal wagon-trains are immediately shot. Twenty thus killed are
lying on the
The Times correspondent says:
While at Aldie, on Thursday last,
two citizens, named Moore and Ball, came within our lines and were detained as
prisoners. The first-named is a son of the proprietor of Moore's flour-mills, at
Aldie, on it branch of Goose Creek, and the latter is a large planter in the
same town. They had "done nothing," so they said, and were neither bushwhackers
nor soldiers, and were surprised at being detained within our lines when so near
their homes, from which they had been absent some time. Upon being questioned
closely they admitted that they had just come from the
James River, and finally
owned up that they had been running off "niggers," having just taken a large
gang, belonging to themselves and neighbors, southward in chains, to avoid
losing them under the emancipation proclamation. I understand, from various
sources, that the owners of this species of property, throughout this section of
the State, are moving it off toward Richmond as fast as it can be spared from
the plantations, and the slaveholders boast that there will not be a negro left
in all this part of the State by the 1st of January next.
Another correspondent says:
The rebels in Secessia are busily
engaged just now in running off to Richmond and beyond negroes and conscripts. A
Union man, just from below Culpepper, says that he saw droves of negroes and
white men on the road at different points, all strongly guarded. He does not
exactly know which excited his pity most, the white or black men.
The following are a few extracts
culled from army letters:
Every day new barbarities
perpetrated by the rebels come to light. This week two soldiers who had
straggled from the ranks on the march from — were found, it is reported on
credible authority, by the roadside with their throats cut from ear to ear.
Here the rebels were guilty of
barbarous atrocities. Many of the dead had their throats cut, and presented a
horrible spectacle. One man was brought in who had had his eyes picked out by
their bayonets. In short, they evinced the most unrelenting fury on finding this
way of retreat cut off to them.
Numbers of our men were found
with their throats cut, and some had their eyes picked out. One was found tied
to a tree. But enough of these horrors—I must conclude.
To what depths of inhuman
wickedness men, or fiends, can descend! Prisoners taken by the rebels were
afterward deliberately murdered, and the fingers of our dead cut off to secure
rings. We grow wiser every day.
One man says: They kept
bayoneting me until I received fourteen wounds. One then left me, the other
remaining over me, when a Union soldier coming up shot him in the breast, and he
fell dead. I lay on the ground until ten o'clock next day.
The fellow at first made no
reply, but, stooping down, seized the dead man by the hair and dragged him
partially out of his grave, in order to get at the buttons on his clothes for
Another saw the brains of the
wounded being beaten out by clubs, thus confirming the previous newspaper
There is enough in these extracts
to bear out the pictures on pages 88 and 89, horrible as they are, and to serve
as a complete refutation of Jeff Davis's claim to superior chivalry. Will the
foreign journals, who have made such an outcry about Butler and M'Neil, be so
good as to let their readers hear of a few of these cases?