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Benjamnin F. Butler, Butler's Book: Autobiography and Personal Reminiscences of Major-General Benjamin Butler, Chapter 18 : why I was relieved from command. (search)
William Tecumseh Sherman, Memoirs of General William T. Sherman ., volume 1, Chapter 8 : from the battle of Bull Run to Paducah --Kentucky and Missouri . 1861 -1862 . (search)
William Tecumseh Sherman, Memoirs of General William T. Sherman ., volume 1, Chapter 9 : battle of Shiloh . March and April , 1862 . (search)
William Tecumseh Sherman, Memoirs of General William T. Sherman ., volume 1, chapter 16 (search)
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 48 (search)
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 65 (search)
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 118 (search)
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 174 (search)
Confederate Wags.--The Cairo (Ill.) correspondence abounds in such incidents as the following:
Many amusing illustrations of rural simplicity were witnessed among the prisoners.
A newsboy rushed on board the T. L. Magill, just arrived from Donelson, vociferously shouting: Here's yer mornin'papers.
A stalwart Tennesseean shouted: Give me the Appeal.
He really believed he could buy the Memphis and New-Orleans papers at Cairo, and when told they were not for sale, earnestly remarked: Why, the last time I was here, I bought all our papers here.
Are ye afeard to sell ‘m?
Another individual bought a ten-cent pie from a poor woman, and tendered her in payment ten dollars in confederate scrip, at the same time stretching forth his hand for nine dollars and ninety cents in change.
The pastry-merchant declined the proffered bill; when the Southerner assured her: I took fur good as gold.
It passes down our way right enough.
A third prisoner having written a letter to his wife, got
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 206 (search)
Story of Beauregard's Sickness.--A despatch says that the story of Beauregard's being sick is false.
We know that it was true.
We had a long and interesting interview, with a perfectly reliable Pittsburgher, who was in Columbus, Kentucky, on last Tuesday week, after the battle of Donelson, and Beauregard was there.
This gentleman knows and conversed there with Generals Polk, Cheatham, and Beauregard's staff-officers, and says that Beauregard had been quite sick, but not dangerously so — nothing worse than a very severe cold, which had quite enfeebled him. After his arrival, he mounted a horse and rode around for two hours, carefully surveying the natural and artificial defences of the place, and his report was, in short: You must evacuate.
You have a wonderful amount of guns here, but no casemates.
You couldn't hold the place two hours, and as for that trap down yonder, pointing to the water-battery placed on a level with the Mississippi and its posterior flat, it is a perfect
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 308 (search)
89.
Escape of Floyd; or, the fall of Fort Donelson. by Sergeant Ed. C. Clark, Thirty-Second regiment, N. Y. S. V. Off Donelson, when the sun was low, Were gunboats running to and fro, Preparing fast to strike the blow That ended so triumphantly. E'er the sun had fairly passed The horizon, a tremendous blast Of artillery, that swept them fast From life into eternity! Our boys stood bravely to the fight, And in their hearts was burning bright The fire of patriotism, shedding light That led them on victoriously! On our decks the carnage raging, Plainly told the war was waging-- Still we were the foe engaging, McClernand fighting manfully. If Floyd and Pillow did but know The power of their determined foe, To whom we all great praise bestow, For whipping them so shamefully! Bravely fought that little fleet, Till the distant tramp of many feet Convinced them of the foe's retreat, And Floyd was trembling violently! “Pillow,” says he, “what shall we do? My legs to me have yet bee<