E 432. :?5^ Class ^iiJ)Z Rook rPS'^ / II ' l«***l - - - ' ^ ^ THE HAVERSACK. ' ■ > > w 9r^vww^^v^TWW9 m »»»*»»»i THE HAVERSACK. PUBLISHED BY THE , , COMMITTEE ON HOSPITALS FOR THE', GREAT CENTRAL FAIR FOR THE U. S. SANITARY COMMISSION. PHILADELPHIA: HENRY B. ASHMEAD, BOOK AND JOB PRINTER, Nos. 1102 AND 1104 Sansom Street. 1864. Sonne nnkBown u OIRCULAK OFFICE OF THE GREAT CENTRAL FAIR FOR THE U. S. SANITARY COMMISSION. PldlacMpMa, April, 18G4. Soldiers and Seamen ! The Committee ou Hospitals propose to issue a volume written, printed, and sold by j'ourselves, at the GREAT CEN- TRAL FAIR for the U. S. Sanitary Commission, to be held iu Philadel- phia early in June. This book shall contain brief and graphic sketches of Army and N'aval Life ; accounts of hardships and privations of Prison Life; acts of per- sonal daring and hair-breadth escapes ; and reminiscences of the march and bivouac, — of the conflict and Hospital. To enable them to effect this purpose, they urgently request and solicit the aid and assistance of Soldiers and Seamen of the Army and Navy of the United States. Every one has a story, either of himself or of his comrade ; and any and all communications will be most gladly received and acknowledged. In accordance with the tenor of the above Circular, the Committee on Hospitals present the accompanying Sketches, as the result of their efforts in this project. From unavoidable circumstances, no response has been received from the Navy. And they offer these simple and truthful narratives as illustrations of the Lights and Shadows of Army- Experience. LADIES' COMMITTEE: Mrs. G. W. Harris, Chahinan. Miss Julia Dunlap, Mrs. T. Newbold Mrs. Gen. Dana, Mrs. Bready, Mrs. Admiral Lardner, Mrs. Mallery, Mrs. Commodore Engle, . • Miss Dunlap, Mrs. Commander Turner, Miss A. E. Jones, Mrs. Charles Cushman, Miss Mc Ilvaine. GENTLEMEN'S COMMITTEE : Dr. E. Dyer, Chairman. William F. Jenks, H. C. Parry, Asst. Surg. U. S. A. Dr. E. a. Smith, Dr. L. S. Bolles, Dr. Wm. W. Keen, Jr., J. E. Mears, Geo. F. Knorr, John E. Bready. THE HAVERSACK. REMINISCENCES OF PRISON LIFE. BY ONE OF THE IlAJSnC AND FILE. I WILL commence by saying that I Avas Color-bearer in the 11th Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers, at the first battle of Bull Run, and received a slight wound in that engagement. I was taken to Sudley Church, (about half a mile from the battle-field), which was used as a hospital at that time. About sun-down, on that day, we were visited by a squad of rebel officers, who informed us that they had gained the day, and that we must consider ourselves prisoners of war. They added, that we need give ourselves no uneasiness, as we should be treated like ivhite men, and should be sent home as soon as we were able to go; but, like most of their promises, they were not fulfilled. One of these rebel officers asked me what State I was from ; and, on telling him that I was from Massa- cbusetts, he turned up his chivalrous nose, and said it was " the meanest d d State in the whole country ;" then turned and left me, for which I was not sorry, nor did 1 call him back. The next day, a man who came, to see "the Yanks," told us that it was fortunate that none of us came within range of his wife, for if we should she would "broom- stick us to death." She, however, overcame her prejudices against us so much as to visit us in the afternoon with her husband ; and, after walking round in silence among the men for about an hour, she fell into conversation and found out what we were fighting for ; this changed her views completely. She visited us every day, and did everything she could for us while we were there. This we found to be the case wherever 6 THE HAVERSACK. we went ; after conversing with us for a short time, and find- ing that there was something a little human in us, the people were ready to grant us all the privileges they could, but they were fetv at the best. During the time that we remained here, we had nothing whatever to eat but what the men who were able to ffo out brought to us from the haversacks of dead soldiers on the field, and also wlfat the man and his wife whom I have mentioned, gave to us. I left this place, in company with several others, for Man- asses Junction, remaining there for a day and night, when Ave were placed on the cars to go to Richmond. On reaching there, we were conveyed to the Hospital from the cars in ambulances. The building used for this purpose was built for an almshouse, and very comfortable. While there, we received very kind treatment, as the Sisters of Charity had taken the whole control of it ; before this was the case, we understood that the men had suffered much from neglect. We could find no fault here with the food or our medical treatment. The doctor, who had charge of the room in which I was, treated us very kindl3^ There was one of our boys who was extremely ill, and he brought him ponstantly little luxuries from his home ; but he was soon clischarged, and we thought it was because he had treated us so well. Some ladies also brought us fruit, cake, candies, and other luxuries, but this stopped as soon as discovered. I remained in this hospital for six weeks, and was then sent to one of the tobacco warehouses on Main Street, a three story brick building. I was placed in the third story, the first being occupied by the guard, and the second and third by the priso- ners. Our rations here were very much changed, consisting of bread and a small piece of beef for breakfast ; dinner and supper came together, of rice water, called soup, with occa- sionally a small piece of meat in it, but very rarely. This was all we had to eat while we were there. The floor on Avhicli we laid at night was covered with "Yanks;" and, although they knew that such was the case, they fired up into the building several times whilst I was there. One night, THE HAVERSACK. 7 after we had all lain down, one of our men raised uj) for some- thing, and just as he did so, a ball passed up, directly behind his back, which must have passed through his body had he been lying down, as he had been but the moment before. While we were here, we got out of money and tobacco ; now' a soldier can get along without the first named article, but hardly without the last, therefore a consultation was held, and we came to the conclusion that there must be some tobacco in the loft of the building, which was used as a store-room, but the difficulty was to get there, as the door leading to it was pad- locked, and we dared not break that, for fear of discovery. After closely examining the ground, we found out that there was sufficient room between a window and the stairs to allow a man to get through on to the stairs wdiich led to the loft ; one of our men succeeded in doing this, — reaching the loft, and passing the tobacco to another in waiting below; and, in this way, we supplied ourselves with enough to last for two months. I Avas kept in this warehouse for about a month ; and then, with about one hundred and fifty others, Avas moved to an- other, as the weather Avas too warm to have such numbers croAvded into one building. As I Avas seated on the AvindoAv- seat here one day, I heard the report of a gun, and felt the dust fly up in my face ; I rose to see what it Avas, and found that one of the guard had fired at a man sitting in the next window, and had come Avithin three inches of hittine; me. A few days after, AvhiLst a man was hanging his blanket out of one of the back AvindoAvs, on the third floor, the guard sang out to him from beloAV, to put his head in ; the man did not hear him ; the guard called out again, firing as he spoke, and inflicting a mortal Avound, from Avhich he died in ten minutes : his' body was taken aAvay and buried immediately. In one half hour, the guard avIio shot him Avas marching round the prison Avith a sAvord on, and boasting of having been promoted for shooting "a d d Yank." Such Avas the fulfillment of the promise that Ave should be treated like wliltc men, and added one more leaf to their chivalrous Avreath. O THE HAVERSACK. After we had been here about three or four weeks, the "Dutch Sergeant," as he was called (although he acted as commander-in-chief of the prison, or appeared to do so to us), came in and formed us in line to call the roll, ordering every man as his name was called to say whether he had been wounded, as those who had not been were to be sent at once to South Carolina and New Orleans ; while the wounded were to remain for the present, to await exchange. As I was among the latter class, I was sent with them to another warehouse, while the well men were sent South. The officers were con- fined in this building and all had the expectation of get- ting home shortly, but we soon found that for us it was to be the expectation but not the home. Here we engaged exten- sively in bonework ; there was ahvays a rush for the bones from the meat, which we made into rings, shields, and other fancy articles. Men might be seen at all times standing round the room rubbing down the pieces of bone against the brick wall, to make them smooth ; this was slow work, and we were very glad to get a few files after a time, so that we could get on faster. Some of the men thought that their shields would sell better to the "Johnny Rebs " by putting their own emblems upon them, but they soon found that they did not like them half so well as they did those of the "Yanks," and therefore that there was no object in making them. We got out of tobacco here, and had to resort to strategy once more. We knew that there was plenty of it in a small room next ours, directly over the rebel officer's room who had charge of us; but, on trying to break it open, we were dis- covered, and the door securely nailed up to prevent future efi"orts. We were, therefore, obliged to adopt some other plan, and soon decided on the following one. There was a large pile of thin boards in the yard, and we were allowed, if so inclined, to take them and build bunks in our room to sleep on; some of these had been put up against the partition which divided our room from the one which held the coveted tobacco. A lot of us assembled in that corner, dancing and singing, in order to make as much noise as possible, to drown other THE HAVERSACK. 9 sounds ; one of us then got under the bunk with a saw made out of the back of a knife, sawing a hole large enough for him to crawl through. He passed out to us about two hundred pounds of tobacco, supplying us with the necessary weed once more at the enemy's expense. The loss was soon discovered, but the strictest search for a long time failed to disclose anything, until an officer chanced to look under the bunk, and discovered our mode of entrance. "Well," said he, "I'll be d d if you Yanks don't beat all ; there's no use in trying to keep anything from you ; but just remember, if you attempt that again, at the slightest sound from there, the guard shall be \ordered to fire into the room, and some of you will suffer." \We did not, of course, try it again, as we were amply supplied for the time we remained, but we understood afterwards that another raid had been made, and two hundred pounds more obtained without discovery. It was amusing to hear the " Dutch Sergeant" call the roll. lie used to come up with two or three of the guard ; and if we w^-e not all up and ready to fall into line, he would fly round, swUr, and strike the men who were not up a blow with the flat of ais sword. This treatment continued until we were sent to Tuscaloosa, under his charge, in the latter part of November, whei^ he turned round completely, and treated us as kindly as his own men. He called us his "Yankee Chums," and when- ever \ve were insulted on the way, he would draw his revolver and tWeatcn to shoot them on the spot. Whilst we stopped at Augusta, Georgia, a woman came out of the crowd which had gathered to see us, and looked at us steadily for about fifteen minut^ in perfect silence. She then turned and asked one at her sii, if we were Yankees. On being told that we were, she repeated the question in perfect amazement, asking if he was sur« of it; and, being told that it was certain, she said,. " Why, Ihey look a good deal like our men !" We ah-ived at Tuscaloosn in four or five days, when the " Dutch ^Sergeant" started to find quarters for us. He was obliged ti place us in an old building that had been used for storing catton ; but he soon informed us that his "Yankee 10 THE HAVERSACK. Chums" must liave abetter place than that, and he would find one for them. There was a large building in the city, which had been used as a " Hotel and U. S. Court," the latter words had been scraped off, but the " U. S." could still be faintly seen. This, our friend offered to rent ; but the owner hearing what purpose it was for, declined renting it -on any terms, when the Sergeant informed him that he should take it, as he had one hundred and fifty guard and five hundred "Yankee Chums," who would all fight for him; without an- other word, he ordered us to march in and take the hotel, which we did without trouble, and a most comfortable place it proved. We had also better rations here than since we had been taken prisoners. On Christmas Day, the Sergeani treated us to coffee and sweet potatoes at his own expense ; h3 was very kind to us about our rations, listened to our com- plaints, investigated them, and often punished the offende:-s who had the charge of them. The way that we obtainsd coffee here was to commit some offence, for which we were put in the guard-house, which was over the store-room where the coffee was ; we then lowered ourselves through a trap-doo' in -the floor, got the coffee, and passed it up to some one in rait- ing above ; in this way, by taking turns, we kept ourselves ■ supplied pretty much all the time. About the 1st of Febru- ary, we received some clothing from the Government, and -Massachusetts also sent her men some, — thus I was fivored with a change of clothing, the first since I had been taken prisoner. On the strength of this arrival, we had i dress parade on the 22d, and celebrated the birthday of the "Father of our Country" in a large hall that there was in the building. We had here a Dramatic Club, which gave two or tlree per- formances, consisting of selections from Shakespeare, recita- tions, "nigger singing," &c., &c., to which spectators from out- side were admitted and seemed much pleased, especially with the "nigger singing." At one of the performances, they tlirew more than five dollars on the stage (^. e., the floor) to them ; but one or two of t ur number taking advantage of citizens being there, THE HAVERSACK. 11 dressed in citizen's dress and escaped. They were soon cap- tured, but an end was thus put to this amusement. We signed a parole here on the 23d of February, to bo sent home, and left Tuscaloosa on the 1st of March ; but when we reached Weldon, we were ordered to gO to Salisbury, North Carolina, as Lincoln had broken his agreement with regard to exchange, so they said, — but, of course, we never believed them. We afterwards supposed that they had made us sign a parole as they were short of guard, and thus might make sure that we should not try to escape. We arrived at Salisbury on the 14th day of March, where we had the poorest rations of any place we were in. We re- mained here till the 23d of May ; and, after signing another parole, we started for liome ; and never can I forget the feel- ing I experienced on beholding the "Old Flag" after ten months absence from it. It Avas on Sunday afternoon that we were towed down the Tar River in flat boats, to Washington, North Carolina, where we were to land. When we were within about a mile of it, we saw a small boat start from one of our gunboats and row for us, with a white flag at the boAV and the stars and stripes at the stern. From the moment we first saw the boat till she got Avhere we could see the stars and stripes, you might have heard a pin drop in any part of the boat ; but when she turned stern too, a breeze started up, and blew the dear Old Flag out in its full length. Such a cheer as went up then from one and all I never heard before in all my life, and never shall again. We were warmly welcomed by the men, each one trying to outdo the other in doing favors to us. We started for New- bern the next morning, in the transport-ship " Hossack ;" and after remaining there two days, sailed for New York, where we arrived on Saturday morning, taking the Fall River route for home,, arriving there on Sunday, June 1st, after this long and weary confinement. After remaining at home six weeks, I was ordered to report to Camp Parole, Annapolis, thence to join my regiment. I was in the Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and Gettysburg 12 THE HAVERSACK. fights; was wounded in the hitter, and hrought to this hospital, in Philadelphia, where I have been ever since. I shall leave for home in a few days, and therefore shall not have the pleasure of being at the " Great Central Fair ;" but I trust that those who are doing so much for it, will meet with the reward that they deserve for their untiring exertions in behalf of the suffering soldier. • Aaron Bradshaw, Sergeant Company K, 11th Massachusetts Volunteers. Dorchester, Mass. LOOK TO THE END. Life is but a Book ! the days of man its leaves, "Whereon impressed our actions are bj what the heart receives, Which printer like, each day records with photographic skill. Not only deeds, but thonghts and words, be they good or ill. The Infant's but a little Tract! and simply one of love, That passing through tl^is troubled vale, attracts our thoughts above, For consolation and for help, where only we may look. To find direction fur the heart, to print a holy Book. The life of Youth a Scrap Book is' of letters gay and bright, Where Evil hath assumed the garb of pleasure and delight, To lead the mind, direct the heart, those tender leaves to fill. With deeds, not done for "His dear sake," and thoughts less worthy still. Manhood's life, a Volume is 1 when reason's subtle power. Assumes the guidance of the heart, the record of the hour ; And if the Press of" Faith" is used with type so clear and bright. Those leaves, when " Death" shall bind them up shall stand the test of Light. Old age I the full leaved Folio ! of man's allotted days, Beoun with love, sees pleasure through, then comes to reason's ways, Licreasing powers of knowledge then, to thee, ! man is given, To make thy Book when fidl and bound, a pass for thee to Eleaven. Let us then look, who favored are, to reach raaturer age, For knowledge, that will aid the heart to fill each daily page With deeds of love ! to God above for blessings he doth send. That so our book. of Life, may be, a good book to the end. Christian St. Hospital, W. Colms, Philadelphia, Ocloha; 1862. 31st. Kegt. N. Y. Vols. SOLDIER LIFE QJ JOHN W. WHAPLES, OF NEW YORK. I enlisted in Buffalo, New York, October 9, 1861, in Com- pany C, 100th Regiment, New York Volunteers. We left for Washington, March 17, 1862. There we were organized with First Brigade, Second Division, Fourth Army Corps. About three WBeks after we encamped near Alexandria, Virginia. I there slept on the ground for the first time ; rising in the morning with two inches of snow on our blankets. Our brig- ade took the transport " Constitution," two days after our ar- rival in Alexandria, for Fortress Monroe, Virginia. On our way down the Potomac one pilot ran us aground opposite a rebel battery. [Perhaps he wished to communicate with his friends !!] Two gun-boats came to our protection. We safely reached Fortress Monroe three days after the fight between the 3Ierrimac and the Monitor. From there we started on the Peninsula campaign. We left the transport at Newport News, and encamped at Camp Riply. There I was chosen color- hearer of the regiment. Then commenced our heavy marching, until we were halted by our faithful skirmishers near Yorktown. Our Brigade General, Nagley, was constantly with the picket line, and appeared more like a sentinel on duty than a General in command. I have known him to come to the reserve and lie down with the men, and entertain them with stories through the whole night. Omitting the routine duty of camp life and the familiar history of the evacuation of Yorktown by the rebels, I pass on to the battle of Williamsburg, the first in which we were engaged. We were ordered to the extreme right for a flank movement and to prevent the evacuation of Williamsburg. We were victorious, capturing some 7000 prisoners. One divi- sion under Greneral Casey was ordered to the advance of the army moving toward Richmond. Nothing special occurred until we reached the Chickahominy, where, during a brisk artillery duel the rebels fired Bottom Bridge, which was in 14 THE HAVKRSACK. flames as we drove them from the river. The loss of this bridge detained us a week, as we were compelled to lay our pontoons. We still led the advance to Fair Oaks, where we were engaged in a serious combat. Our brigade took the initi- ative in this battle, which commenced about 1| P. M. About 2 P. M. General Casey rode up and ordered our regiment to charge : during which charge I was wounded three times. Still I felt determined not to quit the field. To save our bat- tery, we were ordered to make the second charge, in which I received tliree more wounds, but still felt proud to shake the banner of my country in the face of the enemy. On return- ing to the rifle-pits I received yet another tvoimd, and although weak and faint from the loss of blood, I still bore my proud banner with me, my hands being glued to the flagstaff" with my own blood. Two of these Avounds Avere of a very serious character — one through my neck came fearfully near cutting the jugular vein, and dislocating my neck ; one entered my left side, where it yet remains. I was helped from the field and soon brought to Washington. [Douglass Hospital.] In the adjoining bed, Ward D, lay a rebel familiarly called a "Live Tiger." I felt greatly vexed at this fellow, who would not taste food or drink until I had partaken of the same. One of the sesesh women who used to bring him delicacies, one day commenced a conversa- tion in a low tone of voice, which I would not suffer and had her excluded from the hospital. I will now pass on to December 11, 1862, when I had so far recovered as to rejoin my regi- ment, at Gloucester Point, Virginia, from which we soon sailed to Hilton Head, South Carolina. About the last of Febuary General Hunter reviewed the whole army, and our regiment was ordered to sieze Coles Isiand, in Charleston harbor, at all hazards. This we did on the 3d of March, We grounded on the bar, but were landed by the aid of the gun-boats McDon- ald and Pawnee. We remained on this island one week in sight of the enemy without reinforcements, in which time we had several artillery duels. Our regiment was again honored by being ordered to sieze Folly Island, which was cheerfully THE HAVERSACK. 15 obeyed. Here we erected batteries for our protection in the siezing of Morris Island, to which responsible post our regi- ment was again ordered about the first of June. Quietly working through the night, concealed by the woods, in the morning our batteries opened and shelled the island for some three hours, when we charged across Lighthouse inlet and took possession of the lower end of Morris Island, capturing 160 prisoners. On the 18th July, General Gillmore held a council of war, when the 54th Massachusetts (Colored) Regiment was desig- nated to charge the rebel battery Wagner, supported by our regiment, called ^^ the Blood// One Hundredth,'' because of the terrible slaughter of our men. In this charge, while I was standing on the parapet of Wagner, I received a terrible wound in my head, made with a pike, (or man catcher,) crack- ing my scull. This caused me to renew my hospital experi- ence-. Bad as was this wound, in seven weeks I again returned to my regiment. Then commenced the long series of entrench- ments, or siege approaches to the rebel works, Wagner and Sumpter. I was honored by being one of ten detached from my company to work the 100-pound Parrott gun on the left of the 2d Parallel ; and it gave me great pleasure to send the iron missile to its home, and greater still to send the first compliments of "Uncle Sam," in the shape of Greek fire into the nest of Secessionists, where Rebellion was born. It was my great happiness to participate in the capture of Wagner and the reduction of Sumter, and at intervals sending shell into Charleston. Passing over the laborious and continued siege operations, until December 11, 1863, an accident occurred in the explo- sion of a shell about a yard from me, which destroyed my right eye and nearly ruined my left, also carrying away half of my right foot, and dislocating the cap of my left knee, as well as filling my face with powder, which I shall carry to my grave, and severely injuring my right hand. I wish here to ex- press my grateful thanks to Dr. E. Dyer, for partially restoring the sight of my left eye, so that I can move about with compara 16 THE HAVERSACK. tive comfort. Though I carry one rebel ball in my body, and thirteen wounds received in ray glorious country's cause, I do not regret the sacrifice I have made for God, ray country and liberty. I cannot close without thanking the many friends who have shown me kindness, and especially my dear sister, Julia R, Price, who came to Morris Island through almost insurmountable difficulties, borne on by a sister's love, to nurse a wounded brother, on what she supposed was his death-bed. Her reward is a brother's blessing, added to the privilege of firing a shell into the city of Charleston, which she did in February, 1864. God bless our country, is the prayer of so- called "Happy Jack." Hospital, West Philadelphia, April 24, 1864. THE FATHER'S LAMENT. Written from facts of which the author, C R K , Go. D, 19<7t Reyt. Maine Vols., teas an eye-witness. The sun had gone his daily round, And, from his labor to seek rest, Behind the hill-tops, going down, Sinking slowly in the West. His last rays still dimly shone, Kissing the top of a stately pine % That to uncommon height had grown, Twined thickly round with creeping vine. Glimmering camp-fires might be seen In the distance dimly burning ; Sentinels on their muskets lean With lazy air, quite unconcerning. The bugle had not yet proclaimed The hour for soldiers to retreat — * In red rose tints the camp-fires flamed As we gathered in ihe street. There's one that from our midst had gone, Taken by death's relentness hand — We missed his sparklmg wit, that shone In splendor 'mong our little band. His weeping Father had just come. To find the body of his son. And take it to his cheerless home — Made so by work that death had done. With pick and spade, we made our way Toward the grave-yard's lone retreat, Unaided by the light of day, With naught but moon to guide our feet. Arrived, our work we soon begun. That weejiing father standing by, Anxious to see his lifeless son, His bosom rent by many a sigh. * Retreat — the hour of sun-dowu. 18 THE HAVERSACK. The clay now being all removed, With care, from off the coffin-lid. We raised the form of him we loved — No word we spake, the scene forbid. The moon-beams, bursting from a cloud, Shone sadly on his pallid face : His form unwrapped by robe or shroud ; An open field his resting-place. There he lay, like one in sleep, Curls clustering round his manly brow — That father o'er his child did weep — " I have no son to love me now ! " Thou stay of my declining years, Youngest lamb of all my flock — Thou center of my hopes and fears — It breaks my heart to give thee up. " I'm not alone in my lament — A mother's heart feels more than mine ; Hours in silent grief she's spent, Her tender heart near rent in twain. " The sun-light of our household's gone, Why should we care to longer live? Those eyes are closed that love-lit shone — He's gone that joy to us did give. " Oh ! would that I were in thy place. My son, and thou alive in mine! But, as it is, God give me grace Meekly my will to His resign." As the old man his wail did cease, A deep-toned bell of neighboring tower Did the solemn scene increase, As it tolled the midnight hour. Our mournful duty being done. Each sought his couch for quiet rest, With seeds of sadness deeply sown Within each pity-hardened breast. UNION REFRESHMENT SALOONS, PHILA. Dear Jack : — I take the within lines from a continuation of events since we left Buffiilo. You will perceive that there is neither beginning or end, and remember, it is my first at- tempt, so, make all allowances. I really think that angels make it their dwelling place, You can see the patriotism shining in the ladies' face, The welcome that they gave us, the supper table set Such a supper of good things, we soldiers, seldom get, The ladies, they were neatly dressed in red and white and blue. Their eyes, so black and sparkling, they'd pierce you through and through, And if they saw a bashful man, they would not let him wait But anxiously they'd watch him and keep piling up bis plate. I will now describe to you, that is, if I am able, The good things tliat were eatable and lay upon the table, There was splendid bread and butter, cakes, sausages and ham, Tongue, roast beef, pies and pickles, and various kinds of jam. In the middle of the table stood a bouncing plum cake, And many other niceties, we soldiers did partake ; For drink, we had good cotfee and plenty of good tea, And for waiters at the table, give me pleasant "thou and thee 1" Our Regiment, it mustered nearly a thousand men. There are very few boys left now, to see the like again, But every one felt grateful and would brag about that night, And if any one would mention it, he'd do it with delight. And many a soldier's fervent prayer has been offered up above. For those that showed the volunteers such kindness and such love, Maj^ the cause for which they labor, soon reach a happy end, And the volunteers return to home, in peace their days to spend. Some day, I hope to have the pleasure of giving you the contents of our three years cruise, not forgetting the old wood- pile at Fair Oaks, the old Constitution, Malvern Hill, Bottom Bridge, and last not least, the scrape you and Dan got your- selves into. It is done up in a rough state, without any preparation or 20 THE HAVERSACK. consideration, but I often have some fun over the course events have taken. God bless you, Jack, and may you recover your sight, and may it be available for you to keep and steer clear of all rat- tling shell, bad company, and ultimately to see your way to the Kingdom above where there is no war nor any trials, but an eternity of love. Yours, Respectfully, Johnny Wapples. DESCRIPTION OF A BATTLE. A QUESTION often asked bj civilians and the uninitiated, is, " How do you feel when you go into battle ?" I will attempt to answer it, by stating my own experience in regard to the matter. Of course, as every one must be aware, one feels that his life is in imminent danger, and a nervousness creeps over him ■when he gets "under fire" for the first time; but the sacred- ness of the cause and the example of others are great incen- tives to urge the soldier of the Union to resolve to do his duty and to bravely meet the foe ; and, after a little while, although he sees his comrades falling around him, he is determined on driving back the enemy, and every one strives to outdo his fellow-soldier in bearing up manfully to the end of the contest. A man's nerves are tried to the utmost during an artillery fire, when the command is given, "lie down," and every one hugs mother earth to seek protection as he has never done be- fore, no matter how disagreeable the soil may be, while a dead silence prevails through the ranks, so much so, that the least perceptible noise can plainly be heard. Then commences the piercing whistling and hissing of the shells and balls as they are hurled through the air above you, making you feel as if any moment may be your last. The idea of being torn to pieces by these deadly missiles is certainly not a very pleasant one. You pray that it may soon end — you wish that it was over ; but you know very well that to get up and run back would only endanger your personal safety, while a sense of duty holds you to your post. The firing ceases. You are then ordered up, perhaps to make a charge, or maybe to oppose the advancing columns of the enemy, and you feel much more at ease than you did while lying down and being shelled. Then commences the roar of musketry, and the excitement 22 THE HAVERSACK. increases. A terrible noise is kept np, but the shouts of the men, who are gaining upon their enemy, is heard far above the din of battle. The voices of commanding officers, encoura- ging their men to deeds of valor and of daring, is also heard above the clamor and shouts of the warriors. The foe are gaining on us ; our lines are about to break, and perhaps, to retreat in confusion, when the well-known form of our beloved General is seen advancing ;)nd beckoning us to follow, and we rally, and with one deafening and pro- longed cheer, again advance, with the glorious stars and stripes unfurled to the breeze, to meet the rebel hordes and drive them back at the point of the bayonet. Thus, after a prolonged contest, we feel tired and worn out by the excitement and exposure, and we can lie down any where to rest our wearied limbs. The most heart-rending scene is to witness the battle-field after the fighting has ceased — to hear the groans of the wounded and dying, as they cry for help when no assistance can be rendered them, except at the sm orifice of life, and per- haps, not even then, as they lie between the contending armies. To hear the shrieks and cries of these poor suiferers is indeed distressing, and enough to make the stoutest heart quail. Of what incalculable benefit a cup of water given by a friendly hand would be at such a time, none, but he who has experi- enced it, can truly realize. Then surely he who risks his life and suflFers for the benefit of his country is worthy the assistance of his countrymen. It is the duty of every loyal citizen, whose friends are serving in the great volunteer army for the nation's existence, to encnur- age and aid them to bear up in their trials, especially the sick and wounded. Those who do not wish to risk their lives to engao;e in this great contest for the maintenance of our Union, should do all in their power to have the brave soldiers, wounded while fight- ing the battles of our country, properly cared for. Much more might be related of the sufferings of wounded soldiers, some of whom have lain on the battle-field for several THE HAVERSACK. Z6 days without a morsel of food to appease their hunger, or a drop of water to quench their thirst ; and when thej did re- ceive assistance, it was often at the hands of the Sanitary Commission, but we trust enough has been said to induce the reader who is enjoying the comforts of a quiet home and living in peace and plenty, to aid in this worthy cause. David Q. Geiger, Sergeant, Co. H, 68tb Regiment, P. V. LIBERTY vs. TREASON. BY SERGEANT M. B. LADD, V. S. A. HOSPITAL, WEST PHILADELPHIA, PA. 0, Lord of hosts, Thou mighty King! May we, in Freedom's name, fulfill Thy vast designs with humble hearts, And execute thy righteous will. God bless the Nation's mighty heart, And bless the brave, whose blood shall flow In working out the tyrant's doom. And laying treason's ensign low I By noble deeds which they have done — By triuniphs on the land and sea. Deep in the Nation's glowing soul Shall they, for aye, remembered be. The conflict rages fierce and wild ; Two mighty hosts, opposing, meet : See treason, with a form defiled, Lo 1 Liberty, angelic, sweet. Columbia ! 'Tis a glorious name, The dearest land of any clime ; Then never let her sink in shame, But make her future all sublime. See, now, the lines of battle stretch Beyond the dark Potomac's side ; While wilh a tearful eye we catch Each noble form with holy pride. Now rally round our banner bright. Hark ! 'tis the Country's startling cry! Strike ! ere her glory sets in night. Or Freedom shall forever die I Rise! Countrymen I Arise! Arise I Strike home, and break the tyrant's chain! And honor, honor ! to the skies Him, who is counted with the slain! WHAT A UNION WOMAN SUFFERED, OR, EXPERIENCES OF THE LIBBY PRISON. My Dear Miss : — I will give you, as you desire, an account of what I went through in the month I spent, as a prisoner in Richmond. It is not often in any one's life that such an ex- perience comes to them as that which I have gone through, and if you will not think my story too long, I will tell it just as it happened. In the hattle of Chancellorsville, my boy Avas wounded ; the fatal Friday which brought us all, at the North, such heavy hearts, came to me, with sad tidings, for I knew that my boy was wounded, perhaps more seriously than I thought. I was not long, as you may suppose, in making my way to him. Ob- taining through the recommendation of Governor Curtin when I reached Washington, the necessary pass for Falmouth, where I found my son in the Fitzhugh Hospital as it was called, the beautiful country-seat of the Hon. Henry Fitzhugh. The house was filled with our boys, suffering from fresh amputa- tions, some on the field, some just before I reached there, for this was but two weeks after the battle. My own boy, I found had had his leg taken off two days before I reached there, after a vain attempt to save it. Poor fellows ! how any one, just from home, mourned over the suffering they wei'e undergoing, and yet, this was comfort, almost luxury, compared with the sights and sorrows we had in store, in the many weary nights and endless days, of the wretched Libby Prison. God in His n>ercy, saved us from even the forebodings of such a fate. Mr. Fitzhugh's house, which had been converted into a hos- pital, was a large one, and the rooms on one side of the hall were reserved for the family ; the master of the house being in the rebel army. I had very little intercourse with the family in any way, but one thing which often occurred, struck rae 26 THE HAVERSACK. rather an unnecessary piece of cruelty. Miss Fitzhugh's piano stood on one side of the partition between the rooms, and the table on which the amputations were performed on the other, and many a time, while they were going on, would she rattle off the most lively music, and sing at the top of her voice, the "Bonny Blue Fhig," which I was not then sufficiently well-taught to know, as one of the favorite rebel songs. I found after a little time passed, that Mrs. Fitzhugh had no objection to let me buy from her some little delicacy, such as chicken, eggs or milk, which made the fare of the sick boys I was nursing, rather better. My own boy, as you may not per- haps remember, belonged to the 90th Pennsylvania, and with him was a cousin. Shields, a brave fellow of the 6th Wisconsin Regiment. He had had his leg taken oif on the field, and they both needed all my care. Thus passed nearly a month, when the army of the Potomac was pressed on towards the North, to follow Lee into Pennsylvania, (as we afterwards learned) and our hospital taken possession of by the rebels. Captain W. L. Hunt of General Pender's staif, (C. S. A.) arrived to see what was the extent of his good luck in captur- ing our little band of wounded, and as there was not much be- side, to pride himself on, appropriated our hospital stores, lay- ing violent hands on lemons, brandy, and many things pro- vided for the worst cases. Our kind Surgeon, (Dr. Whitney, 16th Mass..) whom we always gratefully remember, said to him, " Captain, do you take these things from wounded, dying boys ?" " Oh, yes, yes," was the reply, " we must have these things, they are needed," and his soldieus were ordered to fill the wagon and drive ofi" directly with our stores. How hard this was to see, 3'ou may know, when I tell you, that there were poor fellows then dying of fever, whose very lives hung on those supplies. Tavo of them died the morning after this happened. After two weeks, under rebel rule as prisoners, we were put into the cars for Richmond. My parting direction from Miss Fiizhugh was, that if I came to Falmouth again, I must bring her some new music ; it seemed like a mockery at such a time, aiid to any one with so sad a heart as mine. THE HAVERSACK. 27 A heavy pouring rain made our journey more wretched, and as we passed through Guiney's Station, Milford, Hanover Junc- tion, and Ashland, the people would crowd about the stations, calling out, " Look at the Yanks ! the d d Yanks, prisoners !" This was our only greeting from the p^op/e of Virginia, as suf- fering, wounded, dying ; our poor boys passed on. The greeting which the Southern chivalry gave us in the persons of Captain Alexander, Colonel Winder and Major Turner, came later and even more thoroughly Southern in its intensity of contempt. Tuesday passed on and nearly half of Wednesday before we reached Richmond, and found a crowd assembled in Broad Street, to stare at and insult the " Yanks" as they were taken out, exhausted from their wounds, half starved and almost fainting from the long weary journey. You must remember that we had been on our way from Tuesday morning until Wednesday afternoon without provisions, medicine or relief of any kind ; two of our number drew their last breaths and were lifted out stiff and cold, but was not compassion more truly needed by us, the living, with the future before us ? They were at rest, the jeers and scoffs of those insulting faces ''and the pain of their taunting words could do them no more harm. Well might those who loved them, take comfort from the fact, they Avcre spared the last drop in their cup of misery on reach- ing Richmond. The prisoners were all quickly taken away to the Libby Prison, and before I knew what had happened, I found myself in a place, which I did not then know the name of, but which I afterwards found was Castle Thunder, a more hated and hateful place even, than the infamous Libby. Here I was mdely thrust into a room and told that I was to remain there. Fancy to yourself my desperation, in this wretched city,, in prison, and separated from my boy, for whose sake, even im- prisonment seemed light. I was worn out, fainting from want of food and thirst, for not a drop of water even had passed my lips since we left Falmouth. A wild sort of power seemed to nerve me and turning to Captain Alexander, I said in agony, " Never, never, will I stay here, by the help of Almighty God, 28 THE HAVERSACK. jou shall never keep me away from my boy !" I need not tell you, the coarse language, the insults I called down ; the rage of this man vented itself in words and jeers which nj one with a spark of manliness in him could have used to a woman. Suf- fice it to say, that that God who was my only Friend, gave me His help, and after another hour of low insults, such as I do not dare to write, I reached the Libby and asked as a humble favor, a drop of water, "Certainly madam," said the young man at the desk, "Oh! thank God," I said, " for one kind word." " Oh, madam," he replied, " We are not all brutes." I then begged that they would only let me stay in any capacity. This was at first denied. I would not be refused. I would wash, scrub, cook, nurse, any thing, if only! might stay, and at last it was granted. I must not forget to tell you, that I was startled while I waa at Castle Thunder, with the most ter- rible shrieks, " Oh, don't kill me ! oh, massa, for God's sake don't kill me !" in the most piteous tones, and as I went out, could not but stop as I passed the room where the poor blacks were beaten. Tied so that they could not move, kneeling on the" floor, and stripped, the lashes as they fell, cut deep gory cuts, from which the blood fell. Oh, what a sight ! my im- ploring cries that they would shoot them at once, only brought me further insult ; and in the next room throuo-h which I went, were soldiers tied up by the thumbs, and in various positions of torture for punishment. Their own men, who for some crime or misdemeanor, were going through this punishment. What were the poor " Yankees" to look for, if this brutal treatment was inflicted on their own soldiers ? Do not think my dear friend, when you read my words, that I am exaggerating ; I give you the testimony of an eye-witness, and perhaps, that of the only Union woman who is able to describe the interior of Libby Prison. Three times after I came to Libby, did Colonel Winder send an escort of soldiers to bring me back to Castle Thunder, but happily they allowed me to remain where I was, and here I staid for a long wretched month, sleeping near my boy's bed, and nur, ing eight of our boys who came with us from Fitzhugh THE HAVERSACK. 29 Hospital. I dressed their wounds and watched and nursed them as carefully as I could, and I cannot but believe, that the care I was able to give them, saved their lives. They thought so at at any rate, and often thanked me for it. The food they gave us was such as you have often heard described. The rice was filled with black worms, the soup the sickest boys were asked to take, covered with maggots, which they were obliged to skim off, before they could summon courage to swallow it. If you would make the contrast stronger, think of the treatment of wounded rebels within our lines, after Gettysburg — no com- fort spared, no alleviation in the way of stimulant, food, or delicacy wanting to bring them back to health. I will spare you the details of the sufferings of the intense heat, made more dreadful by the vermin, which abounded every where ; no imagination can picture our days and nights. We were much astonished one day, by the entrance of the two officers, whose names are generally execrated by our prisoners, Major Turner and Captain Alexander. They announced, with some ceremony, that as the news had come that GAieral Burnside hadj^hung two of their officers as spies, the same fate awaited two Captains in the prison, Union officers, and that lots were to be drawn immediately. A sickening horror came over us. Permission was granted nthat any one the prisioners might select should draw the lots, and an old Chaplain, trem- bling with age and grief, was selected. We held our breaths while the box was placed in his hands, and the first paper he drew was read aloud, " Captain Sawyer." Captain Flinn's name followed, and then — I can scarcely tell you what followed, for no one in that room could hear unmoved, the fate of two of our own officers, and tears and deep silence followed. In a few moments I saw from the window, a band of troops lead out the two doomed officers, hand-cuffed and guarded. I could see no more, for no otfier idea was before me than that they were to be shot before our eyes. The sequel of the story I never knew until I reached home, for when I asked, as I often did, what had been done with our two Captains, the answer always was, that they were in Castle Thunder. 30 THE HAVERSACK. The long weeks sti*etclied themselves into a month, -when we were amazed bj the word-master's announcement, that any who " wished to go North, must go to-night." We scarcely could believe we heard aright. They really wanted room for the prisoners lately taken at Gettysburg, but we did not know that, and could not explain the order. " To go North !" you at home, can never realize Avhat those three words meant to us. Home and rest, and peace, and plenty. Kind words, kind looks, kind deeds, and sympathizing hearts, all this, and even more seemed concentrated in those words. " Oh, yes ! if you can crawl, or if you can't, don't be left behind, boys ! Go home ! and the Lord Almighty will take care of you." So I said to one of our boys, so ill that the ward-master advised him not to risk his life by the journey, but stay behind. He risked it however, and when I last heard, had lived through the fatigue and was safe in an Annapolis hospital, under our own flag, little chance as there seemed. About midnight we were set free from the hated walls of Libby, a relfel officer, standing with a loaded pistol in hand, to order every prisoner who passed out to drop his tin-cu^ blanket, and every article he had about him. Twenty-four hours in the cars brought us almost to City Point, where we were to tai^e the flag of truce boat New York, and as we drew near, I saw something red fluttering on the hill-top. I looked and looked again, high above us on the hill, was raised the rebel rag, but the wind of Heaven seemed to refuse to fill its folds, for it hung heavy and motionless, while far below fluttered and streamed upon our delighted and tear- ful eyes, our own old stars and stripes. It was one of those strange and impressive incidents that no one could fail to no- tice, and we all hailed it as a good omen ; and then the blessed truth came upon me, there was our own old flag. " God be thanked, that I am once more in a free country ! God bless the stars and stripes ! the dear old flag ! God keep it safe !" I scarcely knew what I said or did, my heart was so full. I was the first to see it, and after so many weeks, and weeks too, of such sufi"ering, you can never know how my heart went out to THE HAVERSACK. 31 the old flag, so dear to us all. When the boys came to the boat, cheer after went up — how they shouted and waved their caps, when they felt that we were once more in the '' land of the free and the home of the brave !" I need only to say, that if any one wants to know how to love his country, to be true to her, never suffer a word or hint against her, from pretended friends or concealed enemies, let him spend, as I did, weeks in the famous Libby Prison, and his eyes will be opened to Southern institutions. Mrs. R. L . Philadelphia. WRITTEN ON THE EYE OF AN EXPECTED BATTLE. To-morrow 1 in its secret shade I little know what is for me ; I may be with my father laid, Or wrecked on dire misfortune's sea. Yet, far beyond life's boundary lives The everlasting array bright ; And He alone who takes and gives, Can guide my wandering feet aright. H. A. A., 12th, N, Y. U. S. A, Hospital, Annapolis, Maryland. May 15th, 1864. I WAS captured at the Battle of Chickamaugua, Georgia, September 20, 1863, and marched from the battle-field to General Bragg's Headquarters, a distance of twenty-two miles, through a scorching sun, and not alloAYed one drop of water, although there was a good spring at Ringgold, where we stopped an hour and were given one small ear of corn for rations ; then marched eight miles further, making a distance of thirty miles in nine hours ! After stopping one hour, we were compelled to move on, hungry and foot-sore, to Tunnel Hill, eight miles further, which we reached about midnight, where we found about two thousand of our prisoners. Here we remained until mid-day, on Tuesday, the 22d (I had been captured on Sunday, and kept on the field till Monday), when we were marched to Dal- ton, a distance of eight miles. Here I bought one dozen bis- cuit for ten dollars in Confederate money, which would have been twelve and a half cents at the North. We Avere marched through the town here, for a show, and then turned into a field to rest as best we might. I divided my biscuits with four of my companions, — the only food we had tasted, save one ear of raw corn, since Sunday morning, when we were taken. The next morning, we were piled into cattle cars, and sent to At- lanta, Georgia; here again, we were paraded through the streets as a show, and placed afterwards in a pen not unlike those at slaughter-houses for keeping cattle. We were marched in singly, each man having blanket, knife, money, and every- thing of any value, taken from him. We staid in the pen one night, and here had twenty-four army crackers and one pound of sour bacon given us, to last five days. Once more the morning found us packed in the cars, and off for that modern hell, (excuse the expression !), Richmond. THE HAVERSACK. ' 33 Arrived there, or rather at Belle Island, opposite the city, on the 29th. We were afterwards transferred to the city, and confined in one of the tobacco warehouses, the condition of which I could hardly describe ; here we remained until Decem- ber 9th, when we were sent to Danville, Virginia, one hundred and fifty miles from Richmond. Our sufferings here were intense, from actual hunger. I have eaten mule and dog meat gladly, and have seen rats caught and devoured as eagerly as a hungry man would devour a nice roast of beef; and have also seen bones taken out of the spittoons, where they were completely submerged in filth, wiped off, put into cups, boiled, and the soup eagerly drank. Never, I think, since the war began, were prisoners treated as those have been in 1863 and 1864:. One word as to the deaths and burials there. After death, the body is stripped of all clothing, carried to the dead-house, left upon a stretcher with nothing to protect it from the rats or cats, as the doors ahvays stand open. I have seen a corpse so badly eaten in one night by rats that you could not distinguish one feature. I have also seen men taken to the dead-house before they were dead, — taken there in the evening, and found in the morning turned over on their face and the heart still throbbing. A case of this kind occurred in Danville, last winter. On a cold stormy night, one poor fellow Was carried out for dead, stripped naked, left upon a stretcher, no covering save a sheet ; the next morning, one of our men, in passing, noticed that he had turned over, and, upon examination, found him still alive, but so far gone that he knew nothing ; he had frozen to death, — his feet and hands were tied ; he had raised his hands to his mouth, for the purpose apparently of untying them, but was too weak to do it, and in this condition the poor fellow passed that long cold night, in company with eight of his companions wrapped in the cold embrace of death. He has gone, I trust, to a happier home, where, at the final Judgment Day, he will meet his murderers face to face ; and oh ! what a day of reckoning will there be for those who have tried to destroy the best Government the sun ever shone upon. They 3 34 THE HAVERSACK. will then find that an All-seeing Eye has watched their evil deeds and cruelties, and will most surely punish them. The long-looked for day at last arrived, when we were to be liberated ; and we were ordered, on the 21st day of April, to hold ourselves in readiness for removal to Richmond, prepara- tory to exchange. We were detained at Richmond till the 29th, when we were paroled, and next day sent to City Point for exchange. Pen cannot describe my feelings. The sight of the dear Old Flag, and the thoughts of Liberty, brought tears to more than one eye. The boys could be seen standing in groups, grasping each other's hands, but with hearts too full for utterance, — the big tears stealing down their pale and hag- gard cheeks. We were transferred from the rebel flag-of-truce boat to our own, where we well cared for. Arrived at Annapolis May 2d, and were placed in the hospital here, where we have the best care, — good food, good beds, and, thanks to the ladies, (God bless them), the best nursing and comfortable clothing. William W. Wilcox, Cleveland, Ohio. MY FIRST SABBATH IN CAMP. During a period of nearly forty years wherein I have trav- eled much, I have had many oportunities of witnessing how this Holy day is spent in various countries. I have been greatly interested in the devout, and almost universal attention paid to it in very many of the cities and towns of our own States ; I have been struck with the deep and peculiar solem- nity of this day in the modern Babylon "London," the more striking perhaps to a stranger, from its ceaseless bustle and confusion during the continuous twenty-four hours of the other six days of the week. I have experienced the soothing influ- ence of the " Sabbath's holy hour " in many of the rural dis- tricts of this, as well as the Mother Country, and with feelings of gratitude to Him so appointed this "day of rest." I have listened, on my walk to the Village Church, to " the music of its bell, o'er the peaceful valley stealing." But I do not re- member that I have ever been more intensely pleased on this day, than I was on the first Sabbath which I passed in camp. 'Tis there that the solemn peals of the ofgan — the well-ap- pointed choir — and the other concomitants of Divine service, to which we had hitherto been accustomed, were wanting, but instead thereof, we had the soul-stirring sympathy of Christian Soldiers, (hitherto strangers to each other,) met together for prayer and supplication to the Throne of Grace, under most un- usual and exciting circumstances, all amimated by fervent hope and humble trust in the Omnipotent arm of " The Lord strong and miglity, the Lord mighty in battle." I shall never forget the scene. Indeed, before our services commenced some min- utes passed in unbroken silence, as if every member of that small congregation were struggling with his feelings upon an occasion so difficult for us thoroughly to appreciate. Here were we, in a hostile and rebellious section of our distracted country; surrounded by all the ^^ pomp and circumstance' of war, just entering on a deadly struggle, in company with many oB THE HAVERSACK. thousands of others of our fellow citizens, who had voluntarily left their peaceful occupations, their temporal prospects, and the many comforts of " Home, sweet Home " in the loyal and honorable endeavor to reestablish peace, and secure to our posterity the blessings which we, and our forefathers have enjoyed under our National Banner ; here were we, so circum- stanced, uniting in singing praises and thanksgiving to the great Architect of the Universe for past blessings, and invok- ing his Almighty aid to succor us in this our nation's time of trial. More than an hour was thus passed, and still we staid, unwilling to break the peaceful quiet of our happy meeting ; and feeling that we were enjoying the fulfillment of His prom- ise, who said, " where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst." Doubtless hundreds besides ourselves, can bear testimony to the efficacy of meetings similar to this, my " First Sabbath in camp." Since that meeting however, many of my com- rades have been hurried to their last account, by this fearful, decimating, fratricidal war ; but we believe that humanly speaking, they were prepared to meet even the last great enemy Death, cheered too by the knowledge that they were fighting in a just and holy cause, and that the future could, with humble submission, he left in the hand of Him who has faithfully promised to be a " Father to the fatherless, and to maintain the cause of the widow." Ward I. ON AN OLD BATTLE FIELD. No foe is near, and once again We have possession of the phiin, Whereon a thousand patriots fell, ' Beneath the storm of shot and shell. Wide-spreading fields of yellow corn Concealed our wary scouts that warn, While on the hill, and on the glade The rebel force were arrayed. The morning smiled — its face was fair, But there was murder in the air. The maples flamed in crimson hue. And soon the earth was crimson too ; The dreary lands and shattered wood, Your greedy sands now gorged with blood I We watched the slow-descending sun, We hailed the near approach of even. For then the dying could look up And see the pitying eyes of Heaven. John was our brave young leader there — The best of friends, and best of men — Oft, when I writhed in sharpest pain, His smile would make me smile again. We prayed together ere the fight — We fought together side by side — A shell exploded on my right, And, in the day's dim waning light, I saw him fall. Oh, God ! he cried — I knelt and prayed alone that night. The fields are full of shallow graves. That look like roughly-rounded waves, Upon a sea half hushed with dread Because it half respects its dead. The soil is rebel soil, you know, And does not choose to shield a foe. So from the graves without the wood, Behold the fleshless hands protrude. Arbutus blossoms climb and dare To bloom in hands so bleached and fair, And God's own birds frequent the graves To eulogize the sleeping brave. J. L , Ward E. A LEAF FROM MY JOURNAL. 'TwAS a clear morning in September, 1863, when the sun rose and shed his gohlen light over the bloody field of Chicka- muagua, when a small body of soldiers lay on the piazza of a house near Lookout Mountain. This small party had been sent there to recover from the effects of the hard march and extreme excitement and fatigue of the few days that had' just expired. I had been suffering from chills and fever for a few days and was just preparing to take a little rest, when I saw that we were surrounded by guerillas, or men equally as atrocious. They proved to be a detachment of the 7th Alabama Cavalry, Colonel Malone. I think there was nearly a company of the blood-thirsty wretches. After we had surrendered, (which we were forced to do, as there were only eight of us,) they com- menced their fiendish taunts and insults, which seemed to amuse them very much. They ordered us to prepare for a long march, and conse- quently we were obliged to try to travel on foot, and when we had gone about four miles, nearly all of the eight prisoners had fallen from exhaustion and were unable to travel. The rebels held a mock caucus and concluded they would divide the prisoners and take them by different routes to Rome. Surgeons Hosack and Roswell Rothrock, who had charge of the sick, were als9 taken prisoners with us, until the caucus took place, when they were singled out for victims of the in- fernal cruelty of our captors. The rebels took them and all the rest of us, with the exception of three, on a different route, as they told us, and from what the rebels said they were to be hanged. I much fear that the rebels did shoot or hang them, as I never heard from them after we separated. They crowded two other soldiers, from my own regiment, with about sixty others into an old rickety box car and started THE HAVERSACK. 6\) US for Richmond, a distance of about nine hundred miles, but this was not done until after we had been taken to General Bragg's headquarters, who ordered us to be sent to the rebel capitol. I saw hundreds at Atlanta and Auo-usta, w'ho were sufferintj all the horrors of starvation. One of our officers, (a Major, I think,) attracted my attention; he was sick with a fever and lay in a building at Atlanta, with a cold chain around his ankle, while on the other end of the chain was an eighty pound ball. We saw nothing but horrors at every station, until we ar- rived at the modern Golgotha, — Richmond ! Here we were driven into Libby Prison like so many cattle, many of us were barefoot and hatless, while others Avere stripped nearly naked by the piratical pilferers that had beset us for the five hun- dredth time. The horrible cruelties that were practiced upon me and upon the others can never be told until the Book is opened at " the great and dreadful Day of the Lord." 'Tis truly heart-sickening to remember, and when I try to forget that I was chained and lingering in the horrors of starvation, my own ruined health tells me it is not all a dream! I cannot determine how beings having the image of man can be so cruel and lost to all sense of humanity, as Southern traitors are. It is a long-cherislied hate that actuates them, which amounts almost to monomania, and inspires them to ab- hor freedom and liberal institutions. I arrived at Annapolis Naval Hospital, October 29th, with about one hundred and eighty others, in a most wretched con- dition. Nine died on the flag-of-truce boat New York, and if I am accurately informed, more than half of the one hundred and eighty are now sleeping their long, last sleep beneath the soil of Maryland. A few days ago the steamer New York arrived with several hundred paroled living skeletons, and a great many of them will soon die, in spite of the untiring labors of Surgeons Van- derkrift, Ely, and many others, who are always at their posts in the hospital. The volunteer nurses from Maine and other States have nobly fulfilled Avoman's mission in ministering to 40 THE HAVERSACK. the wants of the dying sohliers. May all connected with the Christian and Sanitary Commissions, live long after this war is over in the full enjoyment of the benefits of this great Re- public of Liberty ! America is but yet in her infancy. The soldiers of the Union army are not yet discouraged, and are firmly resolved to be free ; we love our own dear land, the birth-place and cradle of liberty ; we cannot for one moment think, that our own dear land of beauty will ever be named in the cataogue of fallen countries, like Italy, Mexico, Greece, and Poland. We shall yet have a peaceful home in the United States of America ! A. C. G. Slocum, Company C. 78lh Pennsylvania Volunteers. Annapolis, May 4th, 1864. A SERGEANT OF MASS. VOLUNTEERS. In passing through Ward , my attention was arrested by the looks of agony of a noble soldier, whose head was wounded by a bursting shell, fracturing the skull. The injury was attended by the most violent constitutional disturbance : no rest came to him, — food was loathed ; and one of Death's surest and swiftest messengers seemed only waiting to bear him away. At his bedside, I very often found myself, drawn by a sym- pathy not to be restrained. In the short intervals of his paroxysms of pain, he often spoke of a number of the occupants of the same ward, who seemed to be making 'great ado about very slight wounds, and who were ready with complaints of vague pains, and of various indefinable ills, when their surgeon was present, but who seemed to forget them all upon his leaving. The Sergeant was very much a,nnoyed by their noise over their cards, — their THE HAVERSACK. 41 rough talking and laughing. Once, motioning me close to him, — for he was much prostrated, — and with a voice very low and faint, while a bright light rose to his eye, he said with earnestness, "I wish I were "a doctor! I began to study for one once," — and a half smile played around his lips, as he whispered, — " My preceptor made me tend the door, and that didn't suit, — that's why I ain't a doctor;" then resting for a moment, he added vehemently, his expression changing to apparent severity, pointing to a euchre-playing group, near him, "I'd send those knaves to their regiments, — they're shamming !" He could not understand that their hearts were less stout than his own, and he could not appreciate so small troubles as weighed them down. As weeks passed, he gradually convalesced ; his voice grew louder, and he told me much of his life, and more of his battle experiences, — for his regiment had often struck the foe, — with the most consummate drollery. Indeed, his style was strangely original in its earnestness and humor, and, as I soon learned to consider it, altogether inimitable. "I guess I've been a wild colt," he said, finishing an account of some pranks he had played when he was with the old doctor, his former preceptor, — and I found this very easy to believe. Then, with deepest feeling, he spoke of the fall of several of his comrades, in a charge on a rebel battery, at An- tietam, where he, too, received his wound. " Oh, I wish I could forget that I forced two of them back to the ranks, when they were carrying a dying comrade to the rear ; but I guess I was right. They both fell in a few seconds ; one fell gasping on my breast, with arm and shoulder carried away. I brushed him aside ; my God ! how his eyes followed me ! Rushing again forward, I was* struck, only to fall with my face close to that of the other, — his vitals torn by the same shell from which I was bleeding. He looked a long look at me; his lips moved; but he could not speak ; and he was dead !" As he told me this, so much more forcibly than my poor pen can write it, I seemed to read in his face what a fearful responsibility rests on the soul of one, who, conscious that he has destroyed the life 42 THE HAVERSACK. of a fellow-man, examines his heart for the ultimate motive; and, surely, happy is he who in such moments, when the soul lies all tremblingly naked, finds devotion to duty, and not pride, passion, or ambition. Soon after, an indiscretion induced a relapse, and, as death again seemed near him, the Chaplain was sent for ; and as he seated himself beside his bed, and asked him of his prepara- tion for eternity, he answered, " I'm a Catholic, sir !" After adding a kind word, the Chaplain passed on. But no priest was called, and I soon mentioned the subject to him, when with a quaint look, peculiarly his own, he answered, "I'm not a Catholic, and I ain't going to die just yet. I haven't time to entertain him just now." * * In a few days he began to recover rapidly, and soon he talked of rejoining his regiment. His surgeon steadily refused his daily requests, — fearing evil results from exposure ; but at last, one evening, he found my room to tell me that it was all right now, — he would go to Boston to see a dear one of whom he had spoken, when he feared that his hold on the world might be loosening, and then he should go to his regiment. He seemed in great haste. "I can't learn to be a hospital loafer," he said, and was gone in a moment. A few days afterwards, I learned that, having procured a pass to town, he had gone outside the lines ; had been in Boston, and was again with his regiment. This much I learned ; but whether he now lives, or whether he is a sacri- fice to the promptings of one of the bravest and most fiery spirits that ever breathed, I know not. c. n. T. THE WAR. BY GARRETT B. CULIN, One hundred and eleventh Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers. " Glorious news ! The rebels routed !" Cry the newsboys through the street, And the hearts that lately doubted With a thrill of gladness beat. " Twice five thousand captives taken At the closing of the fight ; Killed and wounded all forsaken By the vanquished in their flight." • Guns are flashing salutations To huzzas that loudly swell, And the atmosphere's vibrations Give expression to each bell. Thanks from many a Christian altar, Are sent up to Him on High ; But the thinking mind will falter To endorse the wicked lie. For Jle rules with love and kindness, Flowing in a ceaseless flood! Man's ambition, hate, and blindness, Answers for these scenes of blood. Not a single missile, flying, Is directed bj His will ! He selected not the dying, Aided none to maim or kill. Ponder, how our blest Redeemer Counselled ever love and peace. And your sinful prayers, blasphemer, Will in shame and sorrow cease. If you have a meed to offer, Give it where 'tis justly due ; To the men who nobly proffer Life and ease, for home and you. Friend meets friend with smiles of gladness, Proffered hand and words of cheer; Not a sign of grief or saduess In the crowded streets appear. 44 THE HAVERSACK. Music on the air is streaming, Countless banners fan the si