Soldiers' record, 1869-11-13

              V O L . I I .
ONE FLAG, ONE LAND, ONE HEART, ONE HAND, ONE NATION, EVmMORE!
H A H T E O R D , O O N ^ ^ . , S A T U K D A Y , m ) Y i m m m 13, 1 8 0 1 ). NO. 19
iljoius at iljoiuc.
THE S0LI)11<:R'S DRl^AM OP 110AII<].
You Inivo put; the children to l)o(l, Aiici'.,
Maud niui Willie lUiii Kosc;
Thov iiiivo lisped tlieir sweet "Our Fnflier, "
And Blink to tlieir ni);lit/s rc.ndse.
])id lliey lliiiik o/ iii9, (Iciir Alice ?
Did they think of nio, iind suy
"God hless him, and (tod idess him,
Dear liiiher, tiir nway
O, my very heart tri'ows sick, Alice,
I lonfi' so to behold
l^osc with lier pure white forehead,
And Mimd, with her curls of jxold .
And Willie so piy and H|)ri!J:hily,
Su merry and I'nll of ylce,
(), my heart yearns to enfold vi;,
My "smilinfj: <i rou|) of three. '
I can hear flic ludsy day, Alice,
The camp life, j^ay aufl wild,
.Shuts IVom my yearniim liosoni,
Tlie tlioiijiiiis of my wiib and child.
Hut whiMi the My:hf is aioiind ine.
And under its stroii-r heams
I gather my cloak aiiout nie,
I dream siieh lon^r, sad dreams!
1 think of a pale yomi}^ wife, Aii(,v,
^Vh() looked np in my face,
When the drum heat, at eveninn'
And culled me to my place.
1 thiidv of thee., sweet hirdlings,
Ivid't ill the dear home nest.
Anil my soul is sick with ion;;in;;s,
That will not he ai rest.
O, when will the war he ove-, Alice '.
0, wlion shall I hehold
IJose with herpnie white forehead,
.\nd Maud with l.cr curls of <j;old ;
And Will so j^ay and sprijrhtly,
So merry and full of nice,
And n.orc than all, the dear wife
Who bore my babes to me !
(lod {Tiiard and keep you all, Alice ;
God jruard and keep me too,
For if only one were missin<:,
What would the others do '/
O, when will the war be over <
And when shall 1 behold
Thoifc whom J love so dearly,
iSafe in the dear home fold '!
ENOCH iVIIDEN IN KFjW VOIMv.
A 8er,L!;cant in iny regiment was wound-ed
ill Cluckmauga, and was i'ej)orted deail.
IJc was seen to I'all in the licat of tiie en-gagement,
and oui' lines being j)nslied
back, the ^ody was not recovered until
day. Wiicn the j)oor lellow was round,
he Wiis so mutilated by being trampled
on by the eavalry, that his lacc could not
be recognized. A comrade, however,
found in li.s breast pocket a miniature ol'
his wile, and sent it to her with an ac-count
ol'his death. Jt turned out that
body Wiis not that of Tom U , but a
sergeant ol" another company. Tom, des-perately
wounded, Jell into the hands of
the enemy, and was sent to Andcrsonville,
where tlic rebel surgeon cut olf one of his
arms and one of his legs, tuid, in spite of
his bad fare, he recovered in due time. 1
never knew why they kept Tom so long in
prison, except it was for the purpose of
exchanging him for a sound mnn.
When poor Tom returned to hi,s home
in Pennsylvania, ho wtis a mere wreck ol'
his foi'incr self, and nobody in the village
knew him. ilis wife had removed to Ill-inois,
wiih her jjarents, more than a year
previously. Without making himself
known to any of his old acquaintances in
the village, Tom started ibr Illinois to
hunt for liis wife. When ho arrived in
the neighborhood where she was living,
he learned that she was married to an old
friend of his, who had followed her from
Pennsylvania. His lirst impulse was to
make himself known to her, and claim
her as his own ; but, when he saw the
snug cabin in which she was living, and
heard how kindly she was treated by her
husband, ho changed his mind. "Sup-pose
1 go and elaim her," he said to him-self,
"how can I support her ? What can
I do for her, with only one arm and one
leg, and a body weakened by months of
Bulfering at Andersonville ? No: she is
happy and eontcnted, and thinks me dead,
and 1 will not desti'oy her happiness and
become a burden to her."
Tom actcd upon this resolution, and
worked his way to New York, where he
set up a small business as a curbstone
merchant, selling nuts, and cakes, and so-da
watei', and getting along j)rosperously.
Ue soon made money enough to Imy him
an ai tilicial leg. and after a while he got
aj)ateiit arm made, and to see him wtilk
ing along the street you would not sup-pose
that ho was but little more than half
a man. lie was a good business man, .tutl
in the coin se of a year enlarged his stock
in trade and opened a regular retail gro-cery.
lie made money fast, and beeauK!
a pi osperous niorchunt, respected by all
who knew him.
In his prosperity ho never forgot his
wile, and alwnys eherished ii ho))o tliat
she would be rostorud to him. iJe was a
regulac subscriber to the village paper
pultli.shed at the town near which his wife
lived, and read it with grout int,erest. Oiio
day ho saw in this jjiiper tho anhouuce-ment
of the death of the man who had
married his wife. Jle lost no time in
starting for Illinois, lie found his wife
in dee|) mourning for her late husband,
and she had added aiu3ther infantile link
to the family circle. Tom made himself
known to he;-, and was rejoiced to ihid that
she still loved him as fondly ns ever It
was some time before he could convince
her that he was not a ghos-t returned from
the other world. In order to make things
sure, the |)arson was citlled in, and Tom
and his wife were married ag.tin. They
went to New York, whore tliey are still
living as hyppy a couple as you will Iind
in Gotham. They live in a brown-stone
front, and the family, when 1 saw them,
were [)reparing to ttdd another link to the
circle. Of course they do not tell every-body
about their family matters, bur, you
Ciin rely uiton the story as strictly true.
The ending is rather better than that of
Enoch Arden, and i think Adams would
do a good thing if he would depart from
the vision ol Tennyson, and in the last act
get Philip Uay ground up in his own mill
—accidentally, of course—•make jtoor
JOnoch stei) in and enjoy the wife and the
fortune left behind.
"What aliout the picturc of Tom's wife,
fouiul in the pocitet of the dead soldier V
Oh, 1 foi'got about that. Tom says
when ho wtis wounded and left upon the
Held a s t r a g g l e r ciime along, and lie stop-ped
him. Supposing liewotdd bleed to
death, he gave the jjicture to the strtig-gier,
witha nujssage for his wife. The
rebel cavalry made it charge soon after,
and killed the straggler, with the j)icture
of Tom's wife in his bosom, and carried
Tom olf to Andersonville. Th it accounts
for the picture being found, and caubing
everybody to belieVe that Tom was killeii.
travagunt women, as there are men, no
one of course denies. That therti tire
some who live only to make a. siiow and
glitter, is true ; but in comp.irisoii with
the whole number of wives and motli-
01 s, and sisters and daughters, these
are but very few indeed. They will make,
more cheerfully and without comj)laint,
im^re devoted sacrilices I'or their hus-bands
and children than any other wo-men.
They bow with more dignity iind
grace to the loss of property, and l)ear
up with more resolution and fortitude
under adver.se circ.ninstances, than any
other of their sex. There nevjr has been
exhibited in the world's history, more
and nobler heroism orgreiter self-saci-i-
(ice, than by the women of the United
States during the late rebellion.
Go up ti'id down Hroadwa;,, ihrough
all the streets, inro all the cities and
liirgei- town.-s, and whore you Iind one
place fitted up i'or women to trade lUid
buy in, you will Iind ten saloons, ves-tanrants,
griyg shnps, cigar stores, sani'ie
rooms, concert htdls and other places,
where men pay large sums in the aggre-gate
lor things which prolit neither "body,
mind nor estate," but weaken the one,
enervate the other, and wa-td the last.
iV. y . Eoeiiiifi;- i\)sl.
OLD SONGS, OLD KRII5NDS.
lOXTllAVAtJ ANOI<] OF AM ICIIKJAN
WO.M I^X.
hlvery month or so newspiij)ers con-tain
accounts of some bride's out lit for
married life—her jewels, her silks, her
satins, the various iinery—all which looks
and reads very much like extravagance,
and leads ol'ten to grave moralizing upon
the wastefulness of American women.
No doubt there are extravagant wo-men,
but, alter all, look at this:—
The value of silk and the manufactures
of silk imported into the United States
for the year ending June 30, 18G0, Avas
$'22,384,654. Now, in the State ofNew
York, in 18G5, there wore 1,4(37,036 wo-men
and girls over ten yeai's of age.
The sum of $22,334,654, the total value
of importetl silks, tiivided among the wo-men
and girls of our state alone, would
give only lifteen dollars and twenty-two
cents worth of all the silk goods im]}orted
in the United States, to each. This is
the value of two gallons of line brandy,
"imported from Franco," but, in fact, of-tenest
made at homo.
This simple fact seems to show that,
as a class, American women are not ex-travagant
; as a whole they arc in fact
the best of economists, for they make
small means go farther in their own ex«
penscs and in their households than any
women in the world. That there are ex-
A TOUCHING INCIDENT.
An intei'csting iinec.dotc. is related of
Franklin, who, it, is alleged, in order to
tost the parental instinct existing be-tween
moilier and child, introduced him-self
as a belated t raveler to his mother's
house, after an ali>sen('e of many years.
Her house being lilled with more illustri-ous
guests than the unknown striingcr,
she refused him shelter, and would have
turned him from her door, llencc,. In;
concluded that this socalled imrental in-stinct
was a i>leu,sant delusive belief,n()t
susceptible, of ])roof.
Tiie opposite of this o(;cured at Wasli-ington.
In one of the lierce engagement's
with the rebels netir iVhudianicsville, a.
young lieutenant of a. Phode Island bat-tery
had his right foot so shat tered by a
fragment <»f shell that, on reaching
Washington, after one of those liorribhi
anibulanc.e rides, and a journey of a,
wecik's duration,he was obliged to under-go
aniputiition of the. leg. Ill', telegraph-ed
home, hundreds of miles away, that
all was going well, and, with a soldier's
fortitude, (joniposed himself to bear his
suiVerings alone.
llnknown to him, however, his motiher,
one of t hose dear i-estu'ves of the army,
hastened up tojoin the main force. She
reached the city at midnight, ami the
nurses wtndd have- kejjtluu' from him un-til
morning. One sat by his side, fan-ning
him as he sle)>t, her hand on the
iVeble tluetuating pulsations which fore-boded
sad result;s. lint what woman's
heart could resist tlu* jileadings of a
mother then J In the darkness she was
(inally allowed to glide in and takeMuj
place at his side. She touched his inilse,
as the nurse had done ; not a word was
spoken ; but the sleei»ing boy o])ened his
eyes, and said : "That feels like my moth-er's
hand ; AVIIO is this besiile me I Jt is
my mother ; turn u]) the gas and let me
se.e mother I"
The two deitr I'aces met iu one long,
joyfid, sobbing embrace, and the foud-iiess
i)ent up in each heart sobbed and
panted, and wept forth its expression.
The gallant fellow, just twenty-one,
his leg amimtated on the last day" of his
three years' service, underwent operation
after operation, and, at last, Avhen death
drew iiigh, he was told by tearful friends
that it only remained to make him com-fortable,
said, "he had looked death in
the face too many times to be afraid
now." and died as gallantly as did the
men of the Cumberland.
The editress of a Western journal
apologizes for the detention of her paper
"because of the late arrival of an extra
male."
There are three things that can by no
lueans employed i'or evil—humility, con-tentment
and liberality.
IIV MHS, K. ,1. liHM..
(iivo me old .^on^'s, {rive mc old soufis,
'J'hat thrilled my heart in Hunny youth,
When earth a liowery Kdon seenied,
And all thing's wore the stamp of tnitli.
And when I eross the dark, dark stream
That bears mc into perfeet day,
My ste|)s shall then the firmer be,
If their loved eelioes elieer the way.
Give ine old lioines, with their old rooms
All lilled with reli(\s of tlie past ;
Tiie ehair in which a fat her sat,
The pictures that he ^azed on last;
Tlic myrtle that a mother priiced—
Deaih loni; since kissed her placid brow ;
Tho books tliat. sisters dear have conned.
They're reading with the Mn;,'els now.
Give me old friends, the .staunch and trne
Who .sailed with ine o'er snmnier sc.'is.
Whose spirit throbs kepi, lime, with mine,
When waves were sinoolJi and mild the breeze ;
Unt when my little bavk went down,
Autl leit me hei,»less on tlie shore, <
Thcv took me to a sheltered nook
And loved me iu my jrrief the more.
Give me old friends, the frood old friends;
And when eternal day draws near
Their trusiinj.; looks and words of faith
Will drive away my donbt and feai-;
And when the veil shall be removed,
J know they'll lin};er at my side.
Ami write on monumental stone.,
"She lived, she loved, she dieil."
A SO 11T11E RN AlIT Y R.
WiiHN the secret history of current e-vents
at the south 'is brought to light)
there will be revelations of sacrifice and
sulfering for loyalty to the Union that will
show that the age of heroism has not
wholly gonoby, A. letter from a lady in
Oharleston, of undoulited iiuthenticity,
gives !in account of a martyr to loyalty
whose name will be honored ia the histo-ry
that is to be written of the great events
of this age, though now concotiled from
inotives of [)i'udence :—
"Poor F is dead ; before the fall of
Sumter, he ex.ertod all hisinlluouce, using
both pen iind voice against the rebellion,
until lie was thrown into prison. At lirst
he 'Was treated as aii ordinary criminal
awaiting trial ; but after the battle of
Manassas, the (!onl'ederat.os seemed drunk
with triumph at tlieir victory, and mad
with rage over the vast number of victims
who fell in theit* rtinks. I wrote you with
what pomp this city mourned her dead ;
amid it till, when tlic Confederate host
seemed like to win, F -was olVered
freedom a,ml promotion if ho would es-
[)Ou.se the Oontederate cause liis milita-ry
and Rcientilic iittainmeiity Avere consid-
I'.rable, which made them anxious for
his services. 'I have swtu'ii allegience to
the Union,' said be.,'und am not one to
break my pledge.' VVheii tempted with
promotion ifhe (;onld be ]>revailed upon
to enlist beneath their banner, he.said,
'You cannot buy mv loyalty. I love
Carolina, and the sontli ; but 1 love my
country better.' h'inding him faithful to
the Hag he loved, he was made to feel
thepowe.rof his enemies, lie was cast
intoa. miserable,,d imp, ill-ventilated cell,
and fed oil coai'St' tare ; halt tll(^ time
uegle('.t;ed by his drunken keeper. ITis
l)roperty was conliscated, and his wife
and children beggared. Poor fellow ! lie
sank beneath his troubles, and was soon
remox'od fi'om the. persecution of his op-presstirs.
The di\y liefore. his death he
saJd to his wife: 'Mary, you are beg-gared
because I wonlil not ])rove dis-loyal.'
'(lod 1)0 thanked for your lidelity!'
replied the wife. 'They have taken your
wealth and life, but could not stain your
honor, ami our children shall boast of an
unspotted name. iMy husband, rejoice
in your truth.' She returned to' her
friends after his death, openly tliH'laring
her prouilest boast shouhl be, her iius-.
band died a martyr to his jiatriotism.
Who shall say the day of heroism has
])assed V
Mother iiickertlyko, the famous hospi-tal,
nurse, has found lands and homes in
KauBas for forty of the organ grinding
war cripples of Boston. Isn't this better
than screaming I'or woman sull'rage ?
Some ministers are forever hammering
doctvinos; making plows with which they
do not work after they are made.