This closed Igo's official correspondence with the Department at Washington. He had the "good luck" to be captured by Morgan last fall, and, of course, Morgan destroyed all his papers. That struck a balance for him for the quarter ending last October. He had another stroke of good fortune at Stone River, on the 1st of January, in having a wagon captured. Of course, all his papers were in that identical wagon. He was very indignant that a battle did not take place about the last of March, as that would have saved him a heap of trouble. Do not think, however, that our Quarter-master has done any thing that will not bear investigation, for a more honest or conscientious man is not to be found in the Quarter-master's Department; but Igo has a holy horror of vouchers and invoices, and receipts all in triplicate; and small blame to him for it.

Fling out to the Breeze, Boys!
Dedicated to the Second Brigade, Second Division, M'cook's Corps.
by W. A. Ogden.

Fling out to the breeze, boys,
That old starry flag—
Let it float as in days famed in story;
For millions of stout hearts
And bayonets wait,
To clear its old pathway to glory.

When the first wail of war
That was heard on our shore
Re-echoed with fierce promulgation,
Columbia's brave sons
Then rallied and fought,
In defense of our glorious nation.

From East, West, North, and South,
Their numbers did pour,
Alike seemed their courage and daring;
While boldly they stood,
As the fierce battle raged,
Each nobly the proud contest sharing.

Those patriots have passed—
They now sleep 'neath the sod;
But their flag shall be our flag forever!
We'll boldly march forward,
And strike to the earth
The fiends who it from us would sever.

Hark! hark! from the South
Comes a sound, deep and shrill—
'Tis the sound of the cannon's deep rattle!
Up! forward! brave boys,
And beat back with a will
The foe from the red field of battle.

We'll rally and rally,
And rally again,
To our standard now pennoned and flying;
And we swear, 'neath its bright folds
Of crimson and gold,
To own it, though living or dying.

Then fling to the breeze, boys,
That dear, blood-bought flag—
It must float as in days famed in story;
For millions of stout hearts
And bayonets wait,
To clear its old pathway to glory.[Back to Contents]

CHAPTER XXIII.

W. D. B. goes into minutiæ in regard to Scott, who, he says, commanded. He is entirely mistaken. Scott, finding the place a dangerous one, requested, a week previously, to be allowed to rejoin his regiment, and his request was granted. The Scott who had command, and was relieved, belonged to Turchin's old regiment, and was their Lieutenant-Colonel. Scott told Colonel Moore of the dangers of the post, and Colonel Moore, feeling his weakness, protested against being left there. The fault lies beyond these new regiments.

Why were three regiments of raw recruits placed in such a dangerous position, with but two guns and a handful of cavalry? As soon as the fight began, a courier was sent to Castilian Springs, a distance of only five miles, for reinforcements. The brigade was sent, but arrived too late. Instead of marching by column, on a double-quick, these men were deployed as skirmishers. The 106th and 108th Ohio and 104th Illinois held the ground for full two hours, until completely surrounded and driven to the brink of the river, where another large force of rebels awaited them. Yet these undisciplined men are called cowards—these men, who bravely held the ground, against odds of three to one, against the disciplined rebels belonging to the 2d and 9th Kentucky, and under the immediate command of Morgan! Yet these men are to bear the disgrace and receive the anathemas of the press, in order to shield some imbecile officer!

I paid a visit to the hospital to-day, and I tell you it was a pitiable sight to see a large room crowded with the gallant wounded. They told me they didn't care for the wounds, but to be so maligned was more than they could bear. One noble fellow read the remarks of the Louisville Journal, and the big tears rolled down his manly cheek, as he made the remark to me, "Good God! is that all the thanks we get for fighting as we did?"

Newspapers may publish what they please, but here is a fact that speaks loud in praise of the daring Ohio boys, and proves that the 106th and 108th fought well: it is, that Company G, of the 106th, lost every commissioned officer, two sergeants, one corporal, and twelve privates.

Colonel Moore, Lieutenant-Colonel Hapeman, and Major Wiedman refused to be paroled.

Lieutenant Gessert, of the 106th, tells me he was present, a week since, when a colored boy came to Lieutenant Szabo, of the 106th, who was on picket. The boy stated that he overheard Morgan tell his master he was laying a plan to "capture them d——d Cincinnati Dutch within three days." The boy was sent to head-quarters, where he repeated his story, but no notice was taken of it.

To-day, Dr. Dyer, surgeon of the 104th Illinois, who went over the field directly after the fight, and assisted in dressing the wounds of our men, handed me a green seal ring belonging to Adjutant Gholson. The rebels had stripped the body of boots, coat and hat, and, fearing this ring would be taken, the Doctor placed it in his pocket.

The Doctor says a rebel captain took a fancy to his (the Doctor's) hat, and insisted upon buying it—swore he would shoot him if he didn't sell it; and told him he went in for raising the black flag on the d——d Yankees.

The Doctor quietly went on with his work, attending to the wounded, while the rebel captain was robbing the dead.

I telegraphed you in regard to Adjutant Gholson's death. He died heroically leading his command. His praise is upon every tongue. I will send his body home on to-day's train.

Alf.

The lines following are a touching tribute to the memory of one of the noblest young men sacrificed in the war. Captain Gholson was a brave, earnest, talented, honorable man, in whose death his many friends feel a sorrowing pride:

To the Memory of Captain W. Y. Gholson.

'Neath Western skies I'm dreaming,
This drear December morn,
Of joys forever vanished,
Of friendships rudely torn;

Of the friend so lately taken
From the heartless world away;
Of the well-beloved warrior
Now sleeping 'neath the clay.

The links of youthful friendship,
Unsullied kept through years,
Grim Death hath rudely shattered—
Ay, dimmed by Memory's tears.

Thou wilt be missed sincerely
By the well-remembered band,
Who've proved, through endless changes,
United heart and hand.

Thy mother's pain and anguish
Through life will never cease;
The grief she's now enduring
No earthly power can ease.

A father mourns the idol
Which God hath taken home,
Hath borne to sunnier regions,
Where guardian spirits roam.

And for the grieving sister,
Whose joyous days are o'er,
There cometh gleams of sunshine
From yonder golden shore.

From the throne of God eternal,
Where the angel roameth free,
He speaketh words of music
To parents dear, and thee.

To friends and weeping kindred
He speaketh words of cheer:
"Be ye prepared to meet me,
Prepared to meet me here."

Lizzie A. F.

Colonel Toland vs. Contraband Whisky.

"Volunteer" told me a good story of one of the gallant 34th Ohio and Colonel Toland.

During their stay at Barboursville, the Colonel noticed, one day, an extraordinary number of intoxicated soldiers in camp. Where they obtained their whisky was a mystery to the command. The orders were very strict in regard to its prohibition. After considerable effort, the Colonel succeeded in finding out the guilty party. The culprit had a little log hut on the banks of the Guyandotte River, and was dealing it out with a profuseness entirely unwarranted. The Colonel sent his orderly for Corporal Minshall, of Company G. On his arrival, the Colonel said:

"Corporal, you will take ten men, sir, and go to the whisky-cabin on the banks of the Guyandotte, seize all the whisky you find, and pour it out."

"All right," said the Corporal; "your order will be obeyed forthwith."

The Corporal got his men together, and ordered them to string all the canteens they could find around their necks. On arriving at the cabin, they seized upon and "poured out" the whisky. After a thorough loading-up, the Corporal returned and reported at head-quarters.

"You poured it out, did you?" inquired the Colonel.

"Yes, sir," categorically replied the Corporal.

The Colonel noticed a canteen about the Corporal's neck, and thought he smelled something, and, looking him steadily in the face, repeated:

"You poured it out, sir, did you?"

"Yes, sir," emphatically replied the Corporal.

"And where did you pour it, sir?"

"In our canteens, Colonel," he replied.

For a moment his eyes flashed with anger; but, on second thought, the joke struck him as being too good, and the pleasant smile so characteristic of the Colonel wreathed his face in a moment.

"Well, Corporal," continued he, "I suppose that is some of the 'poured-out' in your canteen, eh?"

"Yes, sir," he replied, with the utmost sang froid, and, at the same time, gracefully disengaging the strap from his neck, said, "Won't you try some, Colonel?"

"I don't care if I do," said the Colonel; whereupon he imbibed, saying, as he lowered the vessel, "Not a bad article—not a bad article; but, Corporal, next time I send you to pour out whisky I will tell you where to pour it."[Back to Contents]

CHAPTER XXIV.

Among other habitations destroyed was that of a Mrs. Harris, a widow lady, young, comely, and possessed of external attractions in the shape of a hundred and fifty "negroes," which she had contrived to save from the present operation of "the decree," by sending them up the Yazoo River. But Mrs. Harris was a rebel—intense, red-hot in her advocacy of Southern rights and her denunciation of Northern wrongs. Although she had not taken up arms against the Government, she was none the less subject to the indiscriminating swoop of the Proclamation; her niggers, according to that document, were free, and if the Confederacy failed, she could only get pay for them by establishing her loyalty in a court of justice. Her loyalty to the Yankee nation?—not she! She was spunky as a widow of thirty can be. She would see Old Abe, and every other Yankee, in the happy land of Canaan before she would acknowledge allegiance to the Washington Government. Nevertheless, being all she possessed of this world's valuables, she would like to save those niggers.

"Nothing easier," suggested Captain Edward W. Sutherland, of the United States steam-ram Queen of the West, who, attracted by her snapping black eyes, engaged in a friendly conversation with the lady after burning her house down. "Nothing easier in the world, madam."

"How so, Captain? You don't imagine I will take that odious oath, do you? I assure you I would not do it for every nigger in the South."

"But you need not take that oath, madam—at least not the oath."

"I do not understand you, Captain," said the widow, thoughtfully.

"I said you need not take the oath of allegiance; you can establish your loyalty without it—at least," with a respectful bow, "I can establish it for you."

"Indeed! How would you do it, Captain?"

"Simply enough. I am in the Government service; I command one of the boats of the Western navy—technically denominated a ram, madam—down here in the river. Of course, my loyalty is unimpeached, and, madam, I assure you it is unimpeachable. Now, if I could only say to the Government, those niggers are mine"——

The Captain waited a moment, to see what effect his speech was producing.

"Well!" said the widow, impatiently tapping with her well-shaped foot one of the smoking timbers of her late domicile.

"In short, my dear madam, you can save the niggers, save your conscientious scruples, and save me from a future life of misery, by becoming my wife!"

The Captain looked about wildly, as if he expected a sudden attack from guerrillas. The widow tapped the smoldering timber more violently for a few minutes, and then, turning her bright eyes full upon the Captain, said:

"I'll do it!"

The next arrival at Cairo from Vicksburg brought the intelligence that Captain Sutherland, of the ram Queen of the West, was married, a few days since, on board the gunboat Tylor, to Mrs. Harris, of Skipwith Landing. Several officers of the army and navy were present to witness the ceremony, which was performed by a Methodist clergyman, and Admiral Porter gave away the blushing bride. She is represented to be a woman of indomitable pluck, and, for the present, shares the life of her husband, on the ram Queen of the West.

Colonel Fred Jones.

I was with him on his last trip from Cincinnati to Louisville, and from thence to the army. Little did I think it was the last meeting. Noble Fred! He has left a name that will never be erased from honor's scroll. A writer in the Cincinnati Commercial, who knew him from boyhood up, says:

"He is a native of this city, and favorably known as one of our most brilliant young men.

"Colonel Jones was a graduate of Woodward High School, of this city, receiving his diploma, with the highest honor of his class, in 1853. He then entered the law-office of Rufus King, Esq. as a student, and evinced, in the pursuit of a legal education, a remarkable zeal and talent. Two years ago he was elected Prosecuting-Attorney of the Police Court, which office he held at the breaking out of the war, in 1861. It was but a few days after the first call for troops, when he threw his business into the hands of a brother lawyer, and became a soldier. He was first an adjutant to General Bates, but, in June, 1861, he received a lieutenant-colonel's commission in the 31st Ohio, with which he went into active service. He was afterward transferred, with the same rank, to the 24th Ohio, of which regiment he became colonel in May last.

"He distinguished himself at the Battle of Shiloh, to which, indeed, he owed his promotion. He enjoyed the highest reputation with his superiors as an officer.

"Colonel Jones was about twenty-seven years of age, of fine appearance, with a peculiarly happy manner and disposition. He was a very fine extempore orator, and possessed great military ardor from childhood. The writer, a fellow-student, remembers him as captain of a company of school-boys, at Woodward, which, drilling for pastime, became very proficient in tactics.

"We can pay no more eloquent tribute to his memory than the mute impression his history will impart. He is dead! Our city has offered no heavier sacrifice in any of her sons, and parted with no purer of the jewels which have been so rudely torn from her."

Hanging in the Army.

Head-quarters 3d Division, 14th Army Corps,
Murfreesboro, June 6, 1863.

William A. Selkirk, who resided in an adjoining county, murdered, in a most brutal manner, a man by the name of Adam Weaver. Selkirk was a member of a roving band of guerrillas. He entered, with others, the house of Weaver, who was known to have money, and demanded its surrender. Weaver, not complying, was seized, his ears cut off, his tongue torn out, and he was then stabbed. These facts being proved to the court, Selkirk was condemned to death.

At twelve o'clock, yesterday, the crowd commenced congregating at the Court-house, eyeing with curiosity a large, uncovered ambulance, in which was built a platform. The trap was a leaf, acting as a sort of tailboard to the wagon. This trap, or leaf, was supported by a strip of wood that ran into a notch, similar to the old figure-four trap. Attached to the ambulance were six splendid horses. At one o'clock two regiments of infantry, under Colonel Stoughton, arrived upon the ground and formed in line. The ambulance and military then moved along to the jail; the rough wooden coffin was placed in the vehicle, and the prisoner then, for the first time, made his appearance. He had a pale and care-worn look, and a decidedly Southern air. His step was firm, and he got into the wagon with but little assistance. He was accompanied by Father Cony, chaplain of the 35th Indiana. The procession then moved off toward the gallows, erected a short distance from the town, upon the Woodbury pike. The eager crowd thronged the avenues leading to the place of execution—rushing, crushing, cursing and swearing, laughing and yelling. Samuel Lover, the Irish poet, describes, in his poem of "Shamus O'Brien," a hanging, thus:

"And fasther and fasther the crowd gathered there,
Boys, horses, and gingerbread, just like a fair;
And whisky was sellin', and 'cosamuck' too,
And old men and young women enjoying the view;
And thousands were gathered there, if there was one,
Waiting till such time as the hanging would come."

The morbid appetite depicted upon that sea of upturned faces was terrible to think of.

By the kindness of Colonel Stoughton, I was given a very prominent place in the procession.

General Order No. 123, from head-quarters, was read. The prisoner then knelt, and was baptized by the clergyman before mentioned. After the baptism was over, Rev. Mr. Patterson, of the 11th Michigan, made a most fervent and eloquent prayer, the prisoner on his knees, with eyes uplifted to heaven, and seemingly praying with all the fervor of his soul. After Mr. Patterson had finished praying, the prisoner was told he had five minutes to live, and to make any remarks he wished. Selkirk arose, with steady limbs, and said:

"Gentlemen and friends: I am not guilty of the murder of Adam Weaver; I did not kill him. I hope you will all live to one day find out who was the guilty man. I believe my Jesus is waiting to receive my poor soul. I am not guilty of Weaver's murder. I was there, but did not kill him."

He then knelt down and joined in prayer. After prayer was over, he stood up, and stepped on the scaffold again, to have the fatal rope placed around his neck. While the rope was being adjusted, he prayed audibly, and his last words on earth were:

"Sweet Jesus, take me to thyself. O, Lord, forgive me for all my sins;" and again, as the person who escorted him was tightening the rope, he said, "For God's sake don't choke me before I am hung." Then, when the black cap was drawn over his eyes, he seemed to know that in a few seconds he would be consigned to "that bourne from whence no traveler returns," and said, "Lord, have mercy on my soul."

The words were scarcely uttered, when that which was, a few moments before, a stout, healthy man, was nothing but an inanimate form. As the "black cap" was about being put on him, Sarah Ann Weaver, the youngest daughter of the murdered man, Adam Weaver, made her appearance inside the square, and quite close to the scaffold. She asked Captain Goodwin and Major Wiles the privilege of adjusting the rope around his neck, but they would not grant it. She is a young woman of about seventeen years, rather prepossessing and intelligent looking. She stood there unmoved, while the body hung dangling between heaven and earth. She seemed to realize that the murderer of her father had now paid the penalty with his life. I asked her what she thought of the affair, and she curtly remarked: "He will never murder another man, I think." After the body had remained about fifteen minutes swinging in the air, and surgeon Dorr pronounced life extinct, it was cut down and put in a coffin. The assemblage departed, some laughing, some crying, and some thinking of the fate of the deceased.

General A. J. Smith vs. Rusty Guns.

Last winter General Smith's head-quarters were on board the steamer Des Arc; he was in command of a division of Grant's army. One day, on a trip from Arkansas Post to Young's Point, there were on this boat three companies of a nameless regiment. Now it happened that these men had rather neglected to clean their guns, which the sharp eye of the old veteran soon discovered. It was in the morning of our third day out, the wind was blowing terribly, and the weather unusually cold, rendering it very unpleasant to remain long on the hurricane-roof, that the General came rushing into the cabin, where nearly all the officers were comfortably seated around a warm stove.

"Captain," exclaimed the General, in no very mild tone, addressing himself to the commander of one of the aforesaid companies, "have you had an inspection of arms this morning?"

"No, General," timidly replied the Captain, "I have not."

"Have you held an inspection of your company at any time since the battle of Arkansas Post, sir?" sharply asked the General.

"No, sir; the weather has been so unpleasant, and I thought I would let my men rest awhile," hesitatingly replied the Captain, already nervous, through fear, that something disagreeable was about to turn up.

"You thought you'd let them rest awhile? Indeed! The d——l you did! Who pays you, sir, for permitting your men to lay and rot in idleness, while such important duties remain unattended to? What kind of condition are your arms in, now, to defend this boat, or even the lives of your own men, in case we should be attacked by the enemy this moment? What the d——l are you in the service for, if you thus neglect your most important duty?" fairly yelled the old General. And then, starting menacingly toward the quaking captain, said he, imperatively:

"Mount, sir, on that roof, this moment, and call your men instantly into line, that I may examine their arms."

"And you," resumed he, turning to the lieutenants, who commanded the other companies, "are fully as delinquent as the captain. Sirs! I must see your men in line within ten minutes."

It is scarcely necessary to state that the officers in question made the best of their time in drumming up their men, whom they found scattered in all parts of the boat. Finally, however, the companies referred to were duly paraded on the "hurricane," and an abridged form of inspection was gone through with. The General, finding their arms in bad condition, very naturally inflicted some severe talk, threatening condign punishment in case such neglect should be repeated.

But during the time in which one of these companies was falling in, which operation was not executed with that degree of promptness, on the part of the rank and file, satisfactory to the lieutenant commanding, that officer called out, in a most imploring strain, "Fall in, gentlemen! Fall in, lively, gentlemen!" That application of the word "gentlemen" fell upon the ear of General Smith, who, turning quickly around, hastily inquired:

"Are you the lieutenant in command of that company, sir?" addressing the individual who had given the command in such a polite manner.

"Yes, sir," replied the trembling subaltern.

"Then, who the d——l are you calling gentlemen?" cried the General. "I am an old soldier," continued he, approaching and looking more earnestly at the lieutenant, "but I must confess, sir, that I never before heard of the rank of gentleman in the army. Soldiers, sir, are ALL supposed to be gentlemen, of course; but, hereafter, sir, when you address soldiers, remember to say soldiers, or men; let us have no more of this 'bowing and scraping' where it is your duty to command."

Then, turning upon his heel, his eyes snapping with impatience, the old gentleman gave vent to the following words:

"Gentlemen! gentlemen, forsooth! And rusty guns! Umph! The d——l! I like that! Rusty guns! and gentlemen!"[Back to Contents]

CHAPTER XXV.

After a four-days' trip, without tents, we are once more in camp. Last Tuesday afternoon General Steadman ordered Colonel Bishop, of the 2d Minnesota, to take his regiment, a section of the 4th Regular Battery, under Lieutenant Stevenson, and six hundred of Johnson's 1st East Tennessee Cavalry, and proceed forthwith to Harpeth River. Anticipating a fight, I went with the detachment. As we passed through Nolinsville and Triune the few butternut inhabitants gazed with apparent envy at our well-clad soldiers. About nine o'clock at night we reached the river. Here the infantry bivouacked for the night; the artillery planted their pieces in eligible positions, while the cavalry crossed the river and commenced to search for rebel gentry who were supposed to be on short leave of absence at their homes. Quite a number of citizen soldiers were thus picked up. Major Tracy, of the cavalry, then proceeded, with a dozen men, to the residence of General Starnes, and surrounded it, hoping to find the General at home. But the bird had flown the day previous. The Major, however, being a searching man, and full of inquiry, looked under the beds, and in the closets, and asked who was up-stairs. "No one," was the reply, "but my brother, and he has never been in the army." Major Tracy took a candle, went up, saw the young man, and asked where the man had gone who had been in bed with him. The young man protested no one had been there, and Mrs. Starnes pledged her word, on the "honor of a Southern lady," that there was no one else in the house. But Tracy turned down the sheets, and, being a discerning man, discovered the imprint of another person in the bed, and, from the distance they had slept apart, he felt sure it was not a woman. So telling Mrs. S. he hadn't much faith in the honor of a Southern woman, under such circumstances, he thought he would take a peep through a dormer-window that projected from the roof; there, sure enough, sat Major Starnes, a son of the rebel general, in his shirt-tail, breeches and boots in hand, afraid to stir. It was a bitter cold night, and the poor fellow shook like an aspen leaf. He presented at once a pitiable yet ludicrous aspect. After collecting some twenty or thirty horses, they returned to their head-quarters, this side of the river. At night, not relishing the thought of sleeping on a rail, I had the good fortune of sharing a bed with Lieutenant Stevenson, who commanded the battery.

As we anticipated, an early "reveille of musketry" awoke the party, and mounting my sorrel Rosenante, I proceeded to investigate "why we do these things," or to learn what the quarrel is all about. Crossing the river, I caught up with Major Tracy just as he was returning from his expedition to General Starnes's house. It was about eight o'clock as we came in sight of College Grove, a little village about a mile beyond Harpeth River. Here we turned toward Triune, and had left College Grove half a mile to the rear, when we heard the rebels firing upon a few stragglers of the Tennessee Cavalry. Major Tracy promptly countermarched his battalion, which was in the rear, and double-quicked back to the school-house at the town, and within a hundred yards of the rebel cavalry, who were drawn up in a line, in the front and rear of some houses, on the right of the road. The Major, seeing they outnumbered him two to one, halted, and sent word back to Major Burkhardt to reinforce. He then formed a line of battle across the road, awaiting the other battalion. Just as it arrived, Major Tracy thought he saw signs of wavering in the rebel line, and immediately ordered Squadron E to "Forward, by platoons! Double-quick! Charge!" and galloping to the front, along with Lieutenant Thurman, away they go. The rebels waver, break, and now comes the chase. The Major gains upon their rear, and brings rebel No. 1 to the dust, by the aid of a Smith & Wesson revolver. The Major, now wild with excitement, threw his cap in the air, and, hallooing for the boys to follow, continued the chase. The race was fully a three-mile heat, in which we captured fifty-nine rebels. Thirteen were wounded by the saber, four very severely. There were not more than fifteen or twenty of our men close on their rear at one time, and as the rebels turned out on the road-side to surrender, the Tennessee boys never stopped to make sure of them, but yelled to them to drop their guns and dismount, and if they stirred before they returned, they would murder them. After going as far as the few thought it safe, they returned to camp, bringing the prisoners, horses, and various implements of warfare, "sich" as fine English shotguns and the like.

This was certainly one of the most gallant affairs of the season, and may be considered among the most successful charges of the war; for, while not a man of ours was injured, fifty-nine rebels were taken, and I saw more saber cuts that day than any time since I have been with the army.

At noon, General Steadman arrived with the 35th and 9th Ohio, together with another section of battery, under Lieutenant Smith, commanding Company I, 4th Regular Artillery, and the whole brigade moved at once across the river, and marched out in search of the enemy. We soon came upon their picket-fires, the pickets having skedaddled. We rested for the night at Riggs's Cross-roads, and continued the march in the morning. By nine o'clock we met the rebels, drawn up in line of battle, about a mile north of Chapel Hill. The Tennessee Cavalry were in the advance; General Steadman and staff occupied the crest of a hill, in full view of the rebels, and where we all could see the movements of the butternuts; the 9th Ohio arriving, was immediately deployed to the right, the 2d Minnesota and 35th Ohio and 87th Indiana to the left, the battery taking the center. The rebels, consisting of two thousand five hundred of Van Dorn's forces, ran helter skelter through Chapel Hill, and turned to the left—the Tennessee Cavalry again proving their valor by sabering half a dozen of the 7th Alabamians. The rebels, as they retreated across Spring Creek, formed a line, and gave us a brisk little brush; but our men steadily advanced, driving them back, and, crossing the creek, were in their late camp. We skirmished and drove them some three miles beyond the river, and found we were within one mile of Duck River, eleven miles within and beyond their line. Not knowing what forces might come to their aid, the General did not further pursue them; but, on returning, we destroyed their camp, setting fire to all the houses and large sheds they had been using for shelter. A church, among the rest, was destroyed, as it had been used by rebel officers for head-quarters. On the return, a great many colored men, women, and children begged to be allowed to come with us.

To-day, (the 8th,) Sabbath devotions were disturbed by General Steadman ordering the 35th Ohio and a section of battery, under Lieutenant Rodney, of the 4th Artillery, to feel the rebels at Harpeth; so again I thought I might catch an item, and went to the front. The impudent scamps had crossed, and were within four miles of our camp. The Tennessee Cavalry drove them back across the river. The rebels occupied a hill on the opposite side, adjoining the residence of Doctor Webb. After several little brushes by cavalry, our artillery opened upon the line formed by two thousand six hundred rebels, under Patterson and Roddy, of Van Dorn's division, who were supported by two regiments of infantry. They stood but two rounds from the Napoleons, before moving off in disorder. Our line advanced, when, much to our astonishment, the rebels opened up a battery from in front of Doctor Webb's house, which was sharply replied to by Lieutenant Rodney, who sent his compliments to the "gay and festive cusses," inclosed in a twelve-pounder, and directed to Doctor Webb's house; it was safely delivered, as we saw it enter the house. Again their four-pounder belched forth, and one of their shots fell directly in front of the 35th Ohio ambulance, but luckily it did not burst. After holding our position four hours, and driving the rebels back to their dens, we returned to camp.

Colonel Moody and the 74th Ohio.

In the fight at Murfreesboro, General Rosecrans said the 74th Ohio behaved nobly. After General McCook's right had been turned, the whole rebel force came against General Negley's division, to which this regiment belongs. After the 37th Indiana had retired, it being terribly cut up, the 74th was ordered to take its place amid such a shower of shot and shell as has scarcely fallen during the war.

This regiment did not leave its position until an order came from Colonel Miller, commanding the brigade; then, slowly and stubbornly, it came from that well-fought field, leaving many of its members, "who never shall fight again," dead upon it. On the Friday following that bloody Wednesday, they were "in at the death," in the triumphant charge of our left. Its commander, Colonel Moody, is "the fighting Parson" of the Cumberland Army. Calmly and steadily he led his men into the seven-times heated furnace of battle, and,

"As the battle din,
Came rolling in,

his voice of cheer and encouragement was heard above its roar. Just before they came into the whizzing storm, he said: "Say your prayers, my boys, and give them your bullets as fast as you can." A conspicuous mark, he was struck by balls in three places, and his horse shot from under him; but he took no notice of the hits. Once, during the thickest of the fight, he rode along the line, and was cheered by his men even in the roar of battle.

Side by side with Colonel Moody rode, during both battles, the gallant Major Bell, the new field-officer of this regiment. Ohio's 74th is justly proud that she has the experience of a gray-headed Colonel united with the "dash" of a young Major. This regiment has won for itself a place among the "crack" regiments of our army; and General Rosecrans told it to-day that he would have to call it "the fighting regiment."

Colonel Moody on the Battle-field.

The Ohio Statesman, speaking of Colonel Moody at the late battle at Murfreesboro, has the following:

"Colonel Moody has been so long accustomed to 'charge home' upon the rebellious 'hosts of sin,' from the pulpit, that he finds himself in no uncongenial position in charging bayonet upon the rebellious hosts of Davis and the Devil upon the battle-field. And, as in the former position he ever acquitted himself right valiantly, so, in this latter position, he is equally heroic and unconquerable.

"His escape from death in the late fight was so wonderful as to seem clearly Providential. His friends and members of his church in Cincinnati had presented him with a pair of handsome revolvers. One of these he wore in the breast of his coat during the fight. A partially-spent Minié-ball had struck him on the breast, pierced his coat, and, striking the butt of his pistol, splintered it to pieces directly over his heart, but went no further. The stroke was so violent as to hurl him from his horse by the concussion, and he lay, for a moment, insensible. Consciousness soon returned, and, mounting his horse, he raged on through the battle like an enraged lion. He won the most hearty congratulations from General Rosecrans himself. So much for having one's life saved by a bosom friend."[Back to Contents]

CHAPTER XXVI.

There are obstructions in "the course of true love," even in Tennessee, and one of these was the difficulty of procuring "the papers," as there was no clerk's office in the county, or, at least, no clerk to attend to the office. Again were the resources of the General commanding brought into requisition, and again did he prove himself "equal to the emergency." The following document, authorized by General Rosecrans, dictated by General Garfield, and promulgated by Major Wiles, shows how men get licenses to marry in those counties in this department where martial law alone exists: