He saw no household fire where he "Oh! stay," a cullered pusson said, "Beware McClellan, Buell, and Banks, At break of day, as several boys A chap was found and at his side There in the twilight, thick and gray, WHO FIRST ANSWERED THE PRESIDENT'S CALL? On the morning of the sixteenth of April, 1861, at nine o'clock, the Logan Guards received orders from Gov. Curtin to proceed immediately to Harrisburgh, and by nine o'clock that night they were ready to leave for that place with one hundred members. Through some mismanagement of the railroad company, they did not get off until the next morning at four o'clock. As a consequence, they arrived in Harrisburgh about six o'clock on the morning of the seventeenth, which was, at least one hour before the arrival of any other company. After the other companies arrived, they were all sworn in together; and on the morning of the eighteenth the five companies left Harrisburgh for Washington city. During their passage through Baltimore, and their entrance into Washington, the Logun Guards had the right, and were the first company to report themselves for duty to the Adjutant General. The credit should fall on those who deserve it — the gallant Logan Guards, Capt. John B. Selheimer, of Lewiston, Mifflin County Pennsylvania. C. Kerr thus wrote, about the time General McClellan was relieved from the command of the army of the Potomac : There's a piece of domestic philosophy for you, my boy. AN INCIDENT.- When the United States vessels were on their way to attack Fernandina, Florida, they picked up a contraband who had But the whole body of the Mackerels, sane and ventured to sea in a small boat to notify them insane alike, unite in a feeling of strong anguish that the rebels were deserting the place. While blended with enthusiasm, at the removal of the questioning the black, some of the officers of the beloved General of the Mackerel Brigade. He Alabama remarked that he should have brought has been so much a father to them all, that they them newspapers to let them know what was go-never expected to get a step farther while he ing on. "I thought of dat," replied the contra- was with them. band," and fotched a Charleston paper wid me." With this he put his hand in his bosom and brought forth a paper, and with the air of a man who was rendering an important service, handed it to the circle of inquirers. They grasped it eagerly, but one glance induced a general burst of laughter, to the profound astonishment of poor Cuffee, who, it seems, could not read, and imagining that one paper was as good as another, had brought one dated 1822. It is a little odd that this paper, which had floated so long down the stream of time, contained an article in favor of negro emancipation. When the General heard of his removal, my boy, he said that it was like divorcing a husband from a wife who had always supported him, and immediately let fly the following farewell address: HEAD-QUARTERS OF ARMY OF ACCOMAC, } Abe divorces us, and gives the command of all MY CHILDREN: An order from the Honest these attached beings to Major General Wobert Wobinson. [Heartrending and enthusiastic cheers.] have In parting with you I cannot express how much I love your dear bosoms. As an army, you grown from youth to old age under my care. In you I never found doubt or coldness, nor anything else. The victories you have won under my command will live in the nation's work of fiction. The strategy we have achieved, the graves of many unripe Mackerels, the broken forms of those disabled by the emancipation proclama tion the strongest associations that can exist THE GENERAL OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE. [Green Seal.] ADROIT SMUGGLING: Some Irish women searched the market for a very large chicken, and on being shown one, asked if it would hold a pint flask. The dealer thought that it would, and the flask being produced, he satisfied them that it would. That was the chicken they wanted. The women finally admitted that they were going to cook the chicken, place the flask, after filling it with brandy, inside of it for stuffing, and send it to camp. A HERO INDEED. Colonel Edward E. Cross, thus described his experience at the battle of Fredericksburg: -"It came near being my last battle. As we were advancing to those fatal heights in line of battle, I was near my colors. A twelve-pounder shell, from the Washington battery, burst right in front of me. One fragment struck me just below the heart, making a bad wound. Another blew off my hat; another (small bit) entered my mouth, and broke out three of my best jaw-teeth, while the gravel, bits of frozen earth, and minute fragments of shell covered my face with bruises. "I fell insensible, and lay so for some time, when another fragment of shell, striking me on the left leg, below the knee, brought me to my senses. My mouth was full of blood, fragments of teeth and gravel, my breast-bone almost broken in, and I lay in mud two inches deep. My brave boys had gone along. I always told them never to stop for me. Dead and wounded lay thick around. One captain of French's division THERE'S LIFE IN THE OLD LAND YET! was gasping in death within a foot of my head, BY JAS. R. RANDALL, By blue Patapsco's billowy dash, The tyrant's war-shout comes, Along with the cymbal's fitful clash, And the growl of his sullen drums, We hear it! we heed it, with vengeful thrills, And we shall not forgive or forget; his bowels all torn out. The air was full of hissing bullets and bursting shells. Getting on my hands and knees, I looked for my flag. Thank God, there it fluttered right amid the smoke and fire of the front line. I could hear the cheers of my brave men. Twice the colors dropped, but were up in an instant. I tried to crawl along, but a shot came and struck the steel scabbard of There's faith in the streams, there's hope in the hills, my sabre, splitting it open, and knocking me There's life in the old land yet! Minions! we sleep, but we are not dead; We are crushed, we are scourged, we are scarred; Then woe to your vile, polluting horde Bigots! ye quell not the valiant mind, With the clank of an iron chain, The spirit of freedom sings in the wind, And we, though we smite not, and are not thralls, While down by McHenry's dungeon-walls, There's life in the old land yet! Our women have hung their harps away, They will strip their tresses to string our bows, There's faith in their unrelenting woes, down flat. 66 Dizzy and faint, I had sense enough to lay myself out decently, 'feet to the foe.' Two lines pased over me, but soon they swayed back, trampling on the dead and dying. Halting about thirty yards in the rear, one line laid down and commenced firing. Imagine the situation. Right between two fires of bullets and shell-for our own artillery fire from over the river was mostly too short, and did great damage to our own troops. I lay on the field for hours, the most awful moments of my life. As the balls from our line hissed over me within a foot of my head, I covered my face with both hands, and counted rapidly from one to one hundred, expecting every moment my brains would spatter the ground. But they didn't. "The guardian angels (if there be such personages) or my destiny saved me. The end of my days was reserved for another and I hope more fortunate occasion. For if I am to die on the battle-field, I pray that it may be with the cheers of victory in my ears. When it became dark some of my men found me and I was carried to the hospital." And the prayer of the brave New Hampshire Colonel was answered, for he did "die with the cheers of victory in his ears," on the ever memorable field of Gettysburg. the following account of his experiences in the service: the rest. In the beginning of the American war I belonged to a regiment of mounted riflemen, and we were sent into Eastern Tennessee, where there was a good deal of bushwhacking about that time. We were picketed one day in a line about two miles long across country, and I was on the extreme left. I took my saddle off, holsters and all, and hung it on a branch of a peachtree, and my carbine on another. We knew there were no Yankees near, and so I was kind o' off guard, eating peaches. By and by I saw a young woman coming down to where I was, on horseback. She wanted to know if there were many of the boys near, and if they would buy some milk of her if she took it down to them. I said I thought they would, and took about a quart myself; and as she hadn't much more, I emptied the water out of my canteen and took Says she, "If you'll come up to the house yonder, I've got something better than that; you may have some good peach brandy some of your fellows might like a little." I said I'd go, and she says, You needn't take your saddle or carbine, it's just a step, and they are safe enough here there's nobody about." So I mounted bareback, and she led the way. When we passed the bars where she came in, she says, "You ride on a step, and I'll get down and put up the bars." I went on, and as she came up behind, she says pretty sharp, "Ride a little faster, if you please." I looked round and she had a revolver pointed straight at my head, and I saw that she knew how to use it. I had left everything behind me like a fool, and had to give in and obey orders. "That's the house if you please," she says, and showed me a house in the edge of the woods a quarter of a mile away. We got there, and she told me to get down and eat something, for she was going to give me a long ride-into the Yankee lines, about twenty miles away. Her father came out and abused me like a thief, and told me that he was going to have me sent into the Federal lines to be hung. It seems he had a son hung the week before by some of the Confederates, and was going to have his revenge out of me. I ate pretty well, for I thought I might need it before I got any more, and then the old fellow began to curse me and abuse me like anything. He said he would shoot me on the spot if it wasn't that he'd rather have me hung; and instead of giving me my own horse, he took the worst one he had in his stables, and they put me on that with my feet tied together under his belly. Luckily they didn't tie my hands, for they thought I had no arms, and couldn't help myself: but I always carried a small revolver in my shirt-bosom. The girl kept too sharp watch on me for me to use it. She never turned her revolver from me, and I knew that the first suspicious move I made I was a dead man. We went about ten miles in this way, when my old crow-bait gave out and wouldn't go any further. She wouldn't trust me afoot, and so had to give up her own horse; but she kept the bridle in her own hands, and walked ahead with one eye turned back on me, and the revolver cocked, with her finger on the trigger, so that I never had a chance to put my hand in my bosom. We finally came to a spring, and she asked me if I wanted to drink. I didn't feel much like drinking, but I said yes, and so she let me down. I put my head down to the water, and at the same time put my hand down to where the revolver was, and pulled it forward where I could put my hand on it easily; but she was on the watch, and I couldn't pull it out. I mounted again, and the first time she was off her guard a little, I fired and broke the arm she held the pistol in. "Now," says I, "it's my turn; you'll please get on that horse, and we'll go back." She didn't flinch or say a word, but got on the horse, and I tied her legs as they had mine, and we went back to the house. The old man he heard us come up to the door and looked out of the window. He turned as pale as a sheet and ran for his rifle. I knew what he was after, and pushed the door in before he was loaded. Says I, "You may put that shooting-iron down and come with me." He wasn't as brave as the girl, but it was no use to resist, and he knew it ; so he came along. About half way back we met some of our fellows who had missed me, and come out to look me up. They took them both, and I don't know what they did with them, but I know very well what they would have done with me. A RAINY DAY IN CAMP. 'Tis a cheerless, lonesome evening When the soaking, sodden ground Will not echo to the footfall Of the sentinel's dull round. God's blue star-spangled banner I peer into the darkness, And the crowding fancies come; The night wind blowing northward Carries all my heart towards home. For I 'listed in this army Not exactly to my mind; Lo, I have had a sight of drilling, And have roughed it many ways, And Death has nearly had me, Still I think the service pays. It's a blessed sort of feeling, Whether you live or die, To know you've helped your country, And fought right loyally. But I can't help thinking, sometimes When a wet day's leisure comes, That I hear the old home voices Talking louder than the drums. And that far familiar faces Press in at the tent door, I can't help thinking, sometimes, And wife, soft-hearted creature, I call myself a brave one, But in my heart I lie; For my country and her honor But when the Lord who bought me, And yet I know that Captain With a raw recruit like me. And I know He'd not forget me, I should share with Him the victory And it's kind of cheerful thinking And though 'tis dismal rainy, E'en now with thoughts of Him, And death a deal less grim. For I seem to see him waiting Surging up the golden streets. And I hear him read the roll-call, But my fire is dead white ashes, When I've never been enrolled. cently become a member of the War Department myself. I joined the Ellsworth Zouaves, a remnant of what used to be a troupe of acrobats, who distinguished themselves all the way from Chicago to Washington, by turning double somersaults, with muskets in their mouths and bayonets in their hands. There are no members of the Old Zouave battalion in the new one, but the new one retains the name of Ellsworth because one of the members has a brother that once saw a picture of Colonel Ellsworth's grandfather. The names of organizations frequently have a more remote origin than this, and many of them are about as consistent and reasonable as a man claiming relationship to the President of the United States because he was born in Lincolnshire, or supposing he would be Governor if he married a governess, or trying to pass free at a circus as a representative of the press because he is a cheesemaker. I was put through a rigid course of examination before I could be made a Zouave, and I say it with feelings of gratification and self-esteem, that I was remarkably well posted in the catechism. My father was a hero of the revolution, having been caught once in a water-wheel, and whirled around rapidly a number of times. Others of the family have also distinguished themselves as military men at different periods, but their deeds of courage are too well known to need repetition. The following is a copy verbatim et literatim et wordim of most of the questions propounded to me, and the answers thereto, which my intimate acquaintance with the Army Regulations and the report of the Committee on the Conduct of the War enable me to answer readily and accurately. My interrogator was a little man in Federal blue, with gold leaves on his shoulders. They called him Major, but he looked young enough to be a minor. He led off with "How old are you, and what are your qualifications?" "Twenty-two and a strong stomach." Then I requested him to fire his interrogations singly, which he did: "What is the first duty to be learned by a soldier? "How to draw his rations." "What is the most difficult feat for a soldier to perform?" "Drawing his bounty." "If you were in the rear rank of a company during an action, and the man in the front rank before you should be wounded and disabled, what would you do?" "I would despatch myself to the rear for a surgeon immediately. Some men would step forward and take the wounded man's place, but that is unnatural.” BEAU HACKETT AS A ZOUAVE.-Militia companies have always been popular, but never so much so as since the war broke out. Young men with stay-at-home-and-take-care-of-the-women proclivities, are more than ever inclined to join the Home Guards, in consequence of in- "If you were commanding skirmishers, and Creased mortality in the army of the United saw cavalry advancing in the front and infantry States, as shown by the newspaper statistics. in the rear, which would you meet?" With a laudable ambition to support the Gov- Neither; I would mass myself for a bold errment, in any and every emergency, I have re-movement, and shove out sideways." 66 "If you were captured what line of conduct would you pursue?" "I would treat my captors with the utmost civility." "What are the duties of Home Guards?” "Their duty is to see that they have no duties." "What will you take?" The latter question may have been answered with too much vehemence, and may have impressed listeners with the belief that I am in the habit of jumping at conclusions. Such, however, is not the case. I am a Zouave; I am a Home Guard. I have been through all the manoeuvres, and can right about face; I can also write about any other part of the body. I can do the hand-springs, and the tumbling, and the lay down and rollovers, which are done with or without a musket. I have been drilled till the drill has become a bore. I have drilled in all the marches and leaps and vaults, and in the bayonet exercises, and in all the steps, the common step, the quick step, the very quick step, and the double quick step, and the trot and the run; also in slow time and long time, which I never learned from my landlady nor my tailor. I can shoulder arms, and bear arms, and carry arms, (if they are not too heavy,) and reverse arms, and support arms, (ordinarily my arms support me,) and I can order arms better than I can pay for them after they are ordered. I can parry and tierce, and I can throw a hand-spring with a sword-bayonet in my hand without breaking the sword-bayonet in more than three pieces, and I can bite off a cartridge without breaking my teeth out. success in the enterprise I have undertaken. I mean to strike the keynote of my campaign soon, and then look out for a sensation in military circles. I haven't shaved my upper lip since yesterday afternoon. To-morrow will be the third day. I mean to grow a moustache that will be an object of admiration and envy. Mustachios are indispensable to the achievement of a Major Generalship. Mustachios are absolutely necessary to the achievement of anything that is useful. In the event of a war between the United States and the Esquimaux, Chicago my residence will, in all likelihood, be one of the first cities attacked by the invading enemy, and every precaution should be taken to be fully prepared for them. Should such attack ever be made by the warlike and bloodthirsty Esquimaux, or any other of the great powers of the earth, and should it be my misfortune to be unable personally to command my forces, (for I have often observed that an invasion is productive of sickness.) I shall take care that my second officer is a man of sufficient capacity to defend the city as ably as I would do it myself. Should the worst come to to the worst, I stand ready to sacrifice a substitute on the altar of my country. BISHOP ROSECRANS. As Bishop Rosecrans (brother of the General) was at dinner, the conversation reverted to the war. "It would seem to me, Bishop, that you and your brother, the General, are engaged in very different callings," remarked a gentleman. "Yes, it appears so," returned the Bishop. "And yet," he continued, "we are both fighting men. While the General is wielding the sword of flesh, I trust that I am using the sword of the Spirit. He is fighting the rebels, and I am fighting the spirits of darkness. There is this difference in the terms of our service he is fighting with Price, while I am fighting without price.” Once, when an order was given to sling knapsacks, I slung mine out of the window, and when the order was given to unsling knapsacks, I went out and slung it back again quicker than anybody else could have done it. I have got a pretty knapsack too-there are letters on it. It is just the thing to sit down on in the time of an action, and is big enough for a breastwork in case of danger from bullets or anything of that sort. It's heavy, though, and I felt that there INCIDENT OF FORT PILLOW. When Comwas an immense responsibility resting on me the mander Davis took possession of Fort Pillow affirst time I shouldered it. I must have felt some-ter its evacuation by the Confederates the followthing like Atlas did the first time he shouldered ing letter was found lying on a table in the offithe world. It was so heavy that, as a piece of cers' quarters: masterly strategy, I fell back the first time I strapped it on; and as a piece of unmasterly strategy I came near breaking my head against the floor. The Major had promised to put sawdust, softened with soda-water, on the floor hereafter. I have been getting a Major General's uniform made. There is every opportunity that could be desired for promotion, in our corps, where real merit exists, and a Major General of Home Guards is not to be sneezed at. I may have to keep my uniform a few years before I will have occasion to wear it, but a Major General's toggery is a good thing to have in case of promotion. I trust my friends will give themselves no uneasiness, as I feel sure of ultimate "FORT PILLOW, TENN. To the first Yankee who reads this: I present this table not as a manifestation of friendship, yet I entertain no personal animosity to him, but because I can't transport it. After six weeks' bombardment, without doing us any harm whatever, I know you will exult over the occupation of this place, but our evacuation will hurt you from another point with disastrous effect. Five millions white men fighting to be relieved from oppression will never be conquered by twenty millions actuated by malice and pecuniary gain, mark that. We have the science, energy and vigor, with the help of God, to extricate ourselves from this horrible and unnatural difficulty pressed upon us by the North; the day of |