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and, Empire, Keystone, and Jersey, hewing their way right and left. The sunny South, too, in more colors than one, also lent a hand. On the spot their part of the history was jotted down in black and white. The job was a great national one, and let none be banned who bore an honorable part in it. And while those who have cleared the great river may well be proud, even that is not all. It is hard to say that any thing has been more bravely and better done than at Antietam, Murfreesboro, Gettysburgh, and on many fields of lesser note. Nor must Uncle Sam's web-feet be forgotten. At all the waters' margins they have been present, not only on the deep sea, the broad bay, and the rapid river, but also up the narrow, muddy bayou, and wherever the ground was a little damp, they have been and made their tracks. Thanks to all. For the great Republic — for the principles by which it lives and keeps alive for man's vast future — thanks to all. Peace does not appear so distant as it d
ght of the stone wall and in front of the woods, commanding the whole field in front. During the entire engagement our officers and men displayed the utmost gallantry. General Jenkins being absent by reason of a wound in the head received at Gettysburgh, his men were led by Colonel Ferguson, the whole under command of Fitzhugh Lee. Our loss, not yet definitely known, is unofficially reported at from seventy-five to one hundred from all causes. We lost no prisoners. The loss of the enemy is d this is all I am at liberty to report at this writing. The movements of the army since the great battle of Gettysburgh, which are as well known to the enemy as ourselves, may be briefly summed up as follows: Withdrawing from our position at Gettysburgh almost simultaneously with the enemy, our army formed line of battle, our right resting near Hagerstown, our left on the river, near Williamsport. Here we lay two tedious days and nights, offering fight, which the enemy declined, when it was
flank, and took position to the left of Webb, while Caldwell faced the railroad and awaited action. A section of Brown's battery, company A, First Rhode Island artillery, was thrown across Broad Run and put in position in the open field, where it could face the enemy and enfilade his skirmishers, the remainder being placed on the hill just west of the run and bearing directly upon the massing enemy. On the hill to the north-west of Brown was Arnold's famous battery — the same which at Gettysburgh did such terrible execution among the rebel infantry. Then there were other batteries not behind their compeers in the bloody fray. As soon as the rebels discovered that the rear of the Fifth corps had crossed to the east of Broad Run, and that Warren was preparing for a fight, they developed two batteries in the edge of the wood, and commenced to send their respects to the Second corps. They were close by, their most distant guns being not over nine hundred yards from the line ef th
tormed the frozen, rocky side Of that stronghold, Fort Donelson? And who but “Yankees” captured there Full “thirteen thousand” daring men, While “seven thousand” still prepare To stack their arms, at Number Ten? Who but the “Yankees” faced the heat, Where death's relentless missiles sped; To Zollicoffer's band defeat, And shoot the vile arch-traitor dead? Call me a “Yankee!” --it was they Who brought Antietam's battle on, And forced the traitors, in a day, To cross again the rubicon! At Gettysburgh, 'twas “Yankees” too, That memorable triumph gained; And there the victor's trumpet blew, While o'er them shell in torrents rained! 'Twas “Yankees” there, who forced to flee, With over “thirty thousand” loss, Their best and ablest General, Lee, And back to Jeff's dominions cross! 'Twas “Yankees,” too, boldly attacked The Mississippi's strongholds well, Where two score thousand arms were stacked, When Vicksburgh and Port Hudson fell! 'Twas “Yankees” there
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 7. (ed. Frank Moore), Perry's rebel brigade at the battle of Gettysburgh. (search)
ommunication correcting the mistake which our correspondent, unintentionally, had fallen into, in relation to the part borne by Perry's brigade in the Gettysburgh fight. The letter will speak for itself: headquarters Wright's brigade, Orange C. H., Va., August 5, 1863. Mr. Editor: I desire to make a correction of the statement in my letter of the seventh ult., and published in your issue of the twenty-third, as to the conduct of Perry's brigade in the charge upon the enemy's lines at Gettysburgh on the second of July. From information received from several officers of that brigade, and who were in the charge, I am satisfied that the brigade (which is very small) acted well — that it advanced along with Wilcox's and Wright's brigades until it was overwhelmed by vastly superior numbers, and that even then it only fell back in obedience to orders, and when it was apparent that the day was lost. I learn, also, that it was engaged again on the third, when Pickett's charge was made,
General Lee on invasion. A correspondent writing from Gettysburgh, June seventh, relates a talk between General Lee and a mill-owner of this State, during the recent invasion: General Lee's confiscation of paper at the mills near Mount Holly Springs has been mentioned. Mr. Givin, one of the sufferers, at whose house the General breakfasted, gives me some facts of interest. It is not that we love the Pennsylvanians, observed Lee, that we refuse to let our men engage in plundering privaerate government by means of the newspapers. The circumstance shows that uncle Jeff's throne is not so stable as has been supposed. If the insurgents acted somewhat humanely by the way, they exacted an ample recompense from the citizens of Gettysburgh. After getting possession on Wednesday, they advised the people to leave. Those who did so had their houses broken into and robbed without mercy. Every thing was carried off that could be made use of, and what could not be was torn, soiled,
A hero of Gettysburgh. The following thrilling incident was related to the editor of the Bradford Argus, by B. D. Beyea, who spent several days on the battle-field in search of the body of Captain C. H. Flagg, who fell in that terrible fight: In the town of Gettysburgh lives an old couple by the name of Burns. The old man Gettysburgh lives an old couple by the name of Burns. The old man was in the war of 1812, and is now nearly seventy years of age, yet the frosts of many winters has not chilled his patriotism or diminished his love for the old flag, under which he fought in his early days. When the rebels invaded the beautiful Cumberland Valley, and were marching on Gettysburgh, Old Burns concluded that it was tGettysburgh, Old Burns concluded that it was time for every loyal man, young or old, to be up and doing all in his power to beat back the rebel foe, and if possible, give them a quiet resting-place beneath the sod they were polluting with their unhallowed feet. The Old Hero took down an old State musket he had in his house and commenced running bullets. The old lady saw what
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 7. (ed. Frank Moore), Colonel Morrow's Recollections. (search)
Colonel Morrow's Recollections. Colonel Morrow, the brace leader of the famous Twenty-fourth Michigan, lately made a long war-speech to his fellow-citizens of Detroit. Among other things he told them the following: One of the rebel officers captured by us afterward met me in Gettysburgh, where I was a prisoner. A man came up to me in the street and said: Colonel, how do you do? You don't know me, and think I don't know you. (I had cut off my straps to prevent my being recognized as a colonel.) Come and take a drink. Of course, I drank with him, and then asked who he was. He took me one side from the rebel officers, and said: Your regiment captured me at Fitz-Hugh's Landing, d — n you! Said I: Glad of it. Didn't they treat you well? Bully, was his reply. Then treat me the same. We will; where are your straps? I have lost them for the time being. All right, I shan't say a word. He kept his promise, and when I left the rebels, they took me for a surgeon. Twenty-fou
Heroes of Gettysburgh. Harrisburgh, Pa., Nov. 3, 1863. Frank Moore, Esq.: dear Sir: Perhaps this is too late. Perhaps it is not good enough to appear in the rebellion record. It is nevertheless true, and although its author does not pretend to be a poet, he would wish to record the instance, the singularity of which may attract readers to it, and cause it to be remembered. The hero, Weed, was a citizen of New-York. Of Hazlett I know nothing except that he was a dear friend of Weed's, and in the same regiment, the Fifth United States artillery, a First Lieutenant, and appointed from Ohio. An incident at Gettysburgh. “On to the Round Top!” cried Sykes to his men; “On to the Round Top!” was echoed again; “On to the Round Top!” said noble Steve Weed; Now comes the hour for the Southron to bleed. Weed's fierce artillery foremost in fight; Rebels! prepare ye for death or for flight: Weed's fierce artillery, dreaded of old, Belching destruction — refulgent as go
r and gentle presence his weary hours beguiled, And mingled tears and kisses were rained upon her cheek, While William looked the parting his lips refused to speak. The summer days went gliding in golden circles by, And Lee's impetuous army to Gettysburgh drew nigh; The fierce and bloody conflict swept through that region fair, Yet still heroic Jennie dwelt in the cottage there. And while her heart was aching, lest those she loved were dead, Her plump and rosy fingers moulded the soldiers breadet Jenny awaits for me at home. For this, (oh I hear me, heaven,) my eye shall never fail, My hand be true and steady to guide the leaden hail: A force more strong than powder, each deadly ball shall urge-- The memory of the maiden who died at Gettysburgh. “ And now, all bravely battling for freedom and for life, Whene'er the bugle soundeth to call him to the strife, He remembers that fair maiden, all cold and bloodylaid, And strikes with dread precision, as he thinks of Jennie Wade. E. S. T
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