Stone River Monument

HARPER'S WEEKLY.

[DECEMBER 10, 1864.

790

ALLATOONA.

DISMOUNTED from his horse,

On the summit of the hill, Stood our gallant General CORSE,

And he stood erect and still.

He could see them far below,

From the summit where he stood, He could see them come and go, All the rebels under HOOD.

Under all the far-off trees

He could see them form their lines, They were gathering like bees

Beneath the oaks and pines.

And the hero watched them now

As a man may look on death, With a clouding of the brow

And a quickening of the breath.

For the traitors were a host

That hourly swelled and grew, And around him at his post   

The loyal men were few.

Then heavenward looked he,

And a prayer was in his eyes, But the banner of the free

Waved between him and the skies.

And the blue of heaven was bleat

With the stars, as if, just then, 'Twas an answer God had sent

To the leader and his men.

Up the hill the flag of truce

With its folds of dingy white, Came as if it could seduce

Our General from the fight.

And the message that it brought

From the rebel in the wood Was as if a coward wrought

As a scribe for General HOOD.

" Now yield ye to our strength,

Ere we come with might and main, For yield ye must at length,

And the bloodshed will be vain."

On the flag gazed General CORSE,

As in thought, but not in doubt; Then he leaned upon his horse,

And he wrote this answer out :

Ye may come whene'er ye will,

Ye may come with might and main, I will answer for it still

That the bloodshed is not vain."

Back, underneath the trees,

Went the flag of truce, and then, Like clouds of climbing bees,

All the valley swarmed with men.

No pen can paint the strife,

Nor the long and desperate fight

When we gave life after life

For our flag and for the right.

We saw the false ranks reel,

And all the bloody morn They sank beneath our steel

Like newly ripened corn.

Bleeding and faint our chief,

But watching still, he stood, With a smile of grim relief,

The retreating ranks of HOOD.

And he murmured, " I mourn the dead, And blood has poured like rain,

But 'twas true as truth that I said,
It should not be shed in vain.

UNION REFUGEES.

WE give on our first page an illustration representing UNION REFUGEES AT KINGSTON, GEORGIA, on their way North. The number of these arrivals is daily increasing. Since SHERMAN with the main body of his army advanced southward, abandoning Northern Georgia, this region has become one not very safe and pleasant to those who have by the presence of our army been emboldened to declare their preference for the old Union. The Richmond journals dwell upon the departure of these loyalists with peculiar satisfaction, on the ground that it diminishes that opposition in Georgia which has always been an element of danger to the Confederacy.

INSPECTION ON BOARD THE
" METACOMET."

WE have frequently given illustrations of the inspection of our land forces. We give our readers this week on page 789 a representation of the crew and guns of the gun boat Metacomet at their Sunday morning inspection. The Metacomet belongs to Admiral FARRAGUT'S Gulf Squadron, and mounts ten guns, some of which appear in the sketch. This is one of our lately built gun-boats, having been in commission during the past yeas only. She took a prominent part in the capture of the forts and in the fight with the Tennessee in Mobile Bay last August.

FRONT AND REAR.

THE interesting sketch which we give our readers this week on page 796 represents a curious but saddening feature of the battle field. Look at the picture of the battle at the front, where our poor soldiers, battling for the country theirs and ours are risking precious lives, are suffering from severe,

if not mortal, wounds, and their blood stains the contested field. Turn then from this picture and look to what is going on in the rear. Here, under shelter of heavy wagons, are teamsters and sutlers, and other noncombatants, playing cards, or engaged in other amusements, as regardless of what is going on a few rods distant at the front what games contested or what problems solved as if they were congregated together at a fair. Between the mimic strife in the rear and the exciting game at the front how short a space, but a contrast of what opposites !

THE STONE RIVER MONUMENT.

THE Stone River battle ground is in the vicinity of Murfreesborough, Tennessee. Indeed the battle there fought is frequently called the battle of Murfreesborough. The battle was fought on the last day of 1862 and the second day of 1863, and was one of the most severely contested on record. Our force, under General ROSECEANS, numbered little more than 40,000, while General BRAGG commanded an army of over 60,000. Our loss in killed amounted to 1500, in wounded to 7245 ; the total loss being twenty per cent. of the army engaged. The fighting really lasted during seven days, and resulted in our occupation of Murfreesborough. No more gallant fighting was ever done than by our army at Stone River, and it is fitting that over the resting place of so many brave heroes should be erected this memorial of soldierly fellowship and of popular gratitude.

CAPTURE OF THE "HOPE."

WE illustrate on page 797 the capture of the blockade runner Hope by the United States steamer Aeolus on the morning of October 22. The vessel was chased out from the bar of Cape Fear River and captured after a run of five hours. She was one of the finest of the fleet of blockade runners; she was built in Liverpool in 1864 at a cost of L60,000. Her crew numbered sixty-eight men. She was built of steel, and her engines are from the Victoria Iron Works. She is 400 feet long, 40 feet beam, and is 1200 tons English measurement. Every thing about the ship at the time of its capture was in an excellent condition. Her cargo also was valuable. The Aeolus is a small boat not intended for a sea-going vessel, presenting a great contrast to her prize, which is a powerful ocean steamer. She has since captured the Lady Stirling, bound from Wilmington to Nassau, with 960 bales of cotton.      

HUMORS OF THE DAY.

THE END or TABLE-TURNING.—An inmate of a lunatic asylum, driven mad by Spiritualism, wishes to try to turn the multiplication-table.

A CANINE EPITAPH.

To kindred earth all dogs must pass—This one's short life is over;

As people say, he's "gone to grass," Let's hope, poor dog, it's clover.

The son of a fond father, when going to war, promised to bring home the head of one of the enemy. His father replied, "I should be glad to see you come home without a head, provided you come safe."

Why is October the right month for a pugilistic encounter?—Because it's the season for a brew, Sir.

" MOTTO FOR CROQUET—"She Stoops to Conquer."

An Irishman was challenged at the polls in Windsor, Vermont, and his naturalization papers demanded. After much hesitation he handed over a paper that proved to be a bill against himself for two barrels of whisky.

A FISHY CONUNDRUM.

Q. Who swallowed Jonah?

A. The whale.

Q. Then why is a milkman like a whale?

A. Because he gets his prophet (profit) out of the water.

What are the two most sinful letters in the alphabet ?—N V.

What are the two most intemperate letters of the alphabet ?—X S.

What two letters of the alphabet shall become a necessary adjective ?—S N shall.

What two letters of the alphabet are an ornithological adjective ?—B K.

What two letters of the alphabet are most like a peacock ?—P N.

What two letters of the alphabet have least in them?—M T.

What two letters of the alphabet are best to drink ?—B R or A L.

What two letters of the alphabet are most like the cranium of a drone ?—B Z.

What two letters of the alphabet resemble an affectionate remembrance ?—A I.

What two letters of the alphabet are not cheap?—D R. What two letters of the alphabet don't you want your tooth to be like ?—A K.

"I say, old fellow, what are your politics?" said one friend, quizzing another. " Conservative ; my father was Conservative," he replied. " And what is your religion ?" continued the other. "Protestant; and my father was Protestant," was the answer. " And why are you a bachelor ?" said the other. " Because my father was a—oh, confound it 1 don't bother me with your stupid questions."

CAUTION TO IMPOLITE BACHELORS.

A lady of our acquaintance, whose temper is not generally considered to be of the beat, was insulted by a young gentleman. The incautious young man failed to admire a new bonnet she had on. Mark the retribution. She laid herself out for his capture, successfully—we regret to say —and now the poor wretch is not only bound to admire her bonnets, but, worse than all, to pay for them!

TOO LITERAL.

CUSTOMER (who has been long waiting). " I say, waiter, how long will my chop be ?"

WAITER. " About four inches and a 'arf, Sir!"

A QUESTION FOR THE HOUSEKEEPER'S ROOM.—Why is a lady preserving fruit like one of the West Indian Islands —Because she becomes a Jam-maker.

A chiropodist in Paris commences his puff with these words: " All the world has corns; the fairest, bolded best ; Romeo doubtless had corns; Juliet had, probably and you, ladies and gentlemen, need not blush to expose your feet to the operator."

Why is Shylock a most difficult character to perform? Because it is almost an impossibility to do a Jew.

BEEF TEA.—A venerable Scotch divine, who in his day and generation was remarkable for his primitive and abstinent mode of life, at length fell sick, and was visited by a kind hearted lady from a neighboring parish. On her proposing to make some beef tea, he inquired what it was, and being informed he promised to drink it at his usual dinner hour. The soup was accordingly made in the most approved manner, and the lady went home, directing hint to drink a quantity every day until her return. This occurred a few days afterward, when the lady was surprised to see the beef tea almost undiminished, and to hear it denounced by the worthy clergyman as the worst thing he had ever tasted. She determined to try it herself, and having heated a small quantity, pronounced it excellent. "Ay, ay," quoth the divine, "the tea may drink well enough that way, but try it wi' the sugar and cream as I did!"

A BROTH OF A CONUNDRUM From what city of Europe would you be most likely to get a basin of soup ?—Turin (Tureen).

A BRAVE MAN.—One who isn't afraid to wear old clothes until he is able to pay for new.

EXTRAORDINARY FACT.—A modern physiologist notes the extraordinary fact that, at the dinner table, every time a man crooks his elbow his mouth opens.

A gentleman being prevailed upon to taste a lady's home made wine, was asked for an opinion of what he had tasted. "I always give a candid one," said her guest, "where eating and drinking are concerned. It is admirable stuff to catch flies."

ADVICE TO RAILROAD AGENTS.—Have no ideas beyond

your station.

Desertions from the battle-field may appropriately be called the bolts of war.

HOW TO TAKE HIM.—" You don't know how to take me!," said a vulgar fellow, to a gentleman he had insulted. " Yes I do," replied he, taking him by the nose.

THE PRIDE OF A COAT.—A rich manufacturer at Sedan, somewhat remarkable for stinginess, went to a celebrated tailor at Paris to order a coat. He asked the price. "A hundred and fifty francs." He thought this rather dear.

"I shall furnish my own cloth," he said. "Just as you like, Sir," replied the tailor. The coat having been sent, the manufacturer asked what he had to pay for the making. "A hundred and fifty francs," was again the answer. "But I furnished the cloth." "Sir," said the

tailor, "I never reckon the cloth; I always give it into the bargain."

A " FIRE ESCAPE."—When it breaks out.

Why is gas like poetry?—Because it is always found in metre.

Upon a traveler telling General Doyle, an Irishman, that he had been where the bugs were so large and powerful that two of them would drain a man's blood in one night, the General wittily replied," My good Sir, we have

the same animals in Ireland, but they are called hum-bugs."

"Children," said a considerate matron to her assembled progeny, " you may have every thing you want, but you mustn't want any thing you can't have."

" So you are going to teach school ?" said a lady to her maiden aunt. " Well, for my part, sooner than do that I would marry a widower with nine children." "I would

prefer that myself," was the quiet reply; "but where is the widower?"

The anger which flushes the face is not so deadly as that

which makes it pale. The red heat is less intense than the white.

CONSOLATION TO CRIPPLES.—Why is a man with a cork

leg never likely to be forgotten by his friends ?—Because he is remembered.

WANTED.—The receipt which is given when a gentleman "pays his respects."

A country clergyman was a good deal astonished one day by the jollity of the mourners at a funeral " breakfast," and was gravely told in explanation, "Bless you, Sir, they're only dissembling their grief."

THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE.

" AH ! it's a nice thing to be the belle of the village ; to walk down the little street with a quiet, independent air, and feignedly unconscious that all the marriageable girls are looking out with envy, and all the youths with love ; tripping along toward the sea shore, pretending not to see Fred Wilson, the young farmer, as he half reins in his stout cob to bow as he passes, and to walk by the retiring waves for an hour on the hard, firm sand, with a little coquettish soup plate straw hat upon the top of those wanton tresses, floating down and half covering a charming little figure, every golden hair being a very chain dragging some poor heart at its end."

Not a bad soliloquy that for an old bachelor of five-and-forty, down by the sea-side for the benefit of his health and to get his broken wind mended. I had just turned out of my lodgings, and was following in the wake of the fair craft, Amy Ellis—when at Rome we must do as the Romans do; and being in a fishing village full of amphibious farmers, I of course felt it incumbent upon me to talk sea slang, which of course I did very badly and out of place. I was soon down upon the sands among shingle, dog fish, and skate eggs, star-fish, and jelly-fish, and the stranded shells of many a ship-wrecked cockle.

I was not surprised upon reaching the shore to find that Fred Wilson had made a circuit, and crossing the sand-bank, had reached the spot where Amy was walking, and was now by her side, leading his horse by the rein. The sight put me in mind of a score of years before, of moonlight walks, of evening rambles, and wild-flower gathering, and I felt rather lonely as I thought of years slipped by, never to re-turn, buried hopes and fears; and looking far out to sea at the pallid rising moon, I had gone into a deep fit of musing, living the past over again, and wondering as to the future, when my chain of thought was broken by the heavy thud, thud of Fred Wilson's horse as he cantered up to me. In a minute he pulled up at my side, and I was about to ask after Amy when I saw the last flutter of her ribbons, and the last wave of her hair as she stepped lightly through the gap in the sand-bank. Some-thing was evidently wrong, for Fred was looking most fearfully blue. He was a favorite of mine, for I used to set him down as the beau-ideal of a bluff young Saxon farmer, and by way of cheering him up, I pressed him to sup with me, perhaps rather selfishly, for it would help to cheer use up, too.

I could see plainly enough what was the matter,

and I had to use a great deal of persuasion before I could gain his consent ; but I carried my point, and an hour afterward we were chatting over the fire, smoking some capital Havanas which I had brought down with me, and drinking some brandy-and-water, the essence of which had never paid duty, and under whose influence Fred had become communicative. He was in love, and Amy was a jilt—a flirt : he was half mad, he said, and nothing would give him any satisfaction but breaking the heads of Harry Henderson and a few others. But he would not de that ; he would leave the place for good, that he e, would.

And so days and weeks rolled by, and my stay had almost reached its fullest limits.

I had only another day to spend at Delsthorpe, and felt rather reluctant to part from the quiet village and the hospitable friends I had met with. I felt, too, that I should regret much the salt sea-breeze which had given me back my health—richest pearl that the sea can produce. My last day was a fete day—" Delsthorpe Dancing,"a day annually looked forward to as the reunion of friends and relations. The parties in some of the farm-houses mustered rather strongly, and it fell to my lot to be under the same roof as Amy Ellis and Fred Wilson. Cross purposes were rife ; flirting was in the ascend-ant, and a dark cloud hovered over Fred's brow, growing blacker as the evening wore on.

At last, tired of the heated room, I made my es-cape to enjoy an evening walk upon the sands, and had hardly reached the intervening bank when I started as a heavy hand was laid upon my shoulder, the thick sand having muffled the footsteps of my follower. I found on turning that it was my young friend Wilson, and I could just see by the dusky twilight that he wore any thing but a pleasant aspect. I knew his complaint so well that I would not revert to it, but pulled out my cigar-case, and, lighting up, we climbed the sea-bank and sat down in silence. It was a warm, close, heavy autumn night, thick clouds hung overhead, and the darkness was fast closing round. The sullen wash of the water upon the piles, and the constant heavy roll of the waves upon the shingle added to the gloominess of the evening, while a sighing breeze, which kept coining in puffs and dying away again, seemed to my shore-going weather-wisdom to portend a storm. As the waves broke upon the shore their crests seemed, as it were, on fire, and the phosphorescent light wore the appearance of the tail of some huge rocket rushing along the sands. Fred's thoughts were evidently with the party we had left, and he smoked on in silence, while I watched the peculiar phenomenon before me. At length I broke the silence and said, " Is not this very much like a storm coming on, Fred ?" But before he could re-ply a rough voice at my elbow exclaimed, " Storm it is, as sure as guns is guns ; glass has been going down ever since one o'clock, and what with this heavy tide and the blow that's coming on, I reckon we shall have the bank pretty well shaved before morning."

Our informant was one of the revenue men, who, with his glass under his arm, had come up unobserved and given us the unasked benefit of his opinion on the weather. He touched his hat and walked on, and we could just see that he was busying him-self with striking the top spar of the signal-mast, which stood on the highest part of the sand-bank.

" Tell you what," said Fred, " there's a rum one coming on, or else old Snodger would never be letting down the flag-staff, for he doesn't do that for a capful of wind. It's odd, too, you were saying you would like to see one of our storms, and here it is coming the very night before you leave; for come it will, that's certain. If old Snodger says a storm's brewing, you may depend upon seeing the yeast come flying over the sine-hills. By Jove ! what a puff!" he continued, as a sudden gust nearly took his cap off.

"Well, I really should like to see one of the storms you describe," said I ; "not a shipwreck, mind, and bodies washing ashore for days after, but it storm without injury to life or property ; for in-deed there is something majestic in the warring of the elements--the rushing winds, the scudding clouds, the metal-tube-like roar of the heavenly artillery, and the vivid flashing of the arrowy lightning. There is something to my mind intensely poetical in the majestic fury of a tempest."

"Yes, very," said my companion, dryly; " very poetical, no doubt; but, as in this case, intensely damp; and if you'll take my advice, you will come with me from among these pattering drops, and try to find a little more poetry indoors."

" Bravo, Fred!" I exclaimed; "that's the most sensible speech I've heard you make lately. I believe you are turning into the right road again, and are going to give a manly tone to the bent of your feelings."

" Ah, well," said the poor fellow, sighing, " it was about time ; for I've made a fool of myself, or been made one of, quite long enough."

It was no time for further conversation without doors, for the rain was beginning to stream down, and the wind howling in fitful gusts over the "wat'ry waste." I hurried home, and after my customary chocolate and cigar, retired to my bedroom. Upon opening the casement, I could tell that the storm had much increased; but the darkness and rain proved themselves insuperable obstacles to my leaving the house to go storm-gazing; besides which the wind was not sufficiently high to create the "mountains high" waves that would satisfy the de-sire I felt to see a storm on the sea-coast.

Sleep fell softly on my eyelids—one of the great blessings of the sea air that may be commended to the sleepless. The wind rushing by the house lulled me to my rest, and I was soon in the land of dreams, or rather in that deep, sound repose whose waking banishes the sleeping workings of the brain. I must have slept for some time when a sudden noise, that seemed to my waking senses like thunder, roused me with a start, and I listened anxiously for a repetition of the sound. I looked toward my window, but every thing seemed of pitchy blackness, and for a time the startled pulsation of my . heart, with its heavy throb, throb, was all that I