Monthly Archives: April 2009

GENERAL GRANT OBEYS ORDERS.–

General Grant was walking the deck at City Point, absorbed in thought, and with the inevitable cigar in his mouth, when a negro guard touched his arm, saying, “No smoking on the dock, sir.” “Are these your orders?” asked the General, looking up. “Yes, sir,” replied the negro, courteously, but decidedly. “Very good orders,” said Grant, throwing his cigar into the water.

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AN INCIDENT UNDER A FLAG OF TRUCE.–

Lieut.- Commander H. A. Adams, Jr., United States Navy, arrived at New Orleans, having been relieved of the command of the United States forces in Mississippi Sound by Lieut.-Commander Green. He recently sent his boat on shore, and desired the officer in charge to say that if any military officer received the flag, he would be glad to see him on board to arrange the business of the truce. As the boat returned, he saw an officer, who recognized him, but he could not make out who he was. When the boat came alongside, he went to the gangway to receive the stranger, and even helped him over the rail on deck, when he immediately found himself clasped in the arms of his own brother, one in command of the Confederate forces on shore, the other in command of the United States forces afloat. The meeting, under such circumstances, was, as you may imagine, a very painful one. After the business was over, and a brotherly chat had, they parted–the Confederate saying, as he got into the boat, “Whatever happens, Hal, recollect one thing00we will always be brothers.”

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AN INTERESTING INCIDENT.–

In the freshman class at Harvard was a Washington, from Virginia, the nearest relative of the General, bearing the name of George, and born on the 22d of February. He was a youth of excellent principles, a communicant in the Episcopal Church, and respected and beloved by his classmates. On the breaking out of difficulties, he left Cambridge,–not for any sympathy with secession, for he was strongly against it in all his feelings,–but because he thought it his duty to be near his mother, a widow, whose estate lay in the threatened portion of the border. Soon afterwards others of his class left college to join the Massachusetts regiments.

A few days after the battle of Winchester, one of these young men, Lieutenant Crowninshield, of the Massachusetts Second regiment, was walking through the wards of the hospital, then filled with rebel officers and soldiers, and heard his familiar college nickname, “Crowny, Crowny,” called by a feeble voice from one of the beds. He went to it, and there–pale, faint, shot through the lungs by a musket ball–lay his classmate, young Washington. It is needless to say, that everything possible was done for him. The mother was allowed to take her son home for maternal care.

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DIANA SMITH, THE HEROINE OF THE NORTHWEST.–

She was born and raised in the County of Jackson, Virginia. Her father is a consistent member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and was leading a quiet, peaceful, and useful life, until his country was invaded, when he called his countrymen to arms, and raised the first company of guerrillas, which he commanded until last fall, when, by fraud and treachery, he was captured, and ever since has been confined in a loathsome dungeon at Camp Chase, Ohio, without hope of delivery, unless our government should interpose and procure his release.

Diana, his only daughter, a beautiful girl, has been tenderly raised and well educated. She is also a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and has always been regarded as very pious and exemplary. She is descended from a race of unflinching nerve, and satisfied with nothing less than freedom, as unrestrained as the pure air of their mountain home.

Her devotion to the cause of Southern rights, in which her father had nobly engaged, has caused her, too, to feel the oppressor’s power. Although a tender and delicate flower, upon whose cheek the bloom of sixteen summers yet lingers, she has been five times captured by the Yankees, and marched sometimes on foot, in manacles, a prisoner–once a considerable distance into Ohio, at which time she made her escape. She was never released, but in each instance managed to escape from her guard. She, too, has seen service; she was in several battles in which her father engaged the enemy. She has seen blood flow like water. Her trusty rifle has made more than one of the vile Yankees bite the dust. She left her home in company with the Moccason Rangers, Captain Kesler, and came through the enemy’s lines in safety, and is now at the Blue Sulphur Springs.

She was accompanied by Miss Duskie, who has also earned the proud distinction of a heroine. On one occasion this fearless girl, surrounded by fifty Yankees and Union men, rushed through their ranks with a daring that struck terror to their craven hearts. With her rifle lashed across her shoulders, she swam the west fork of the Kanawha River, and made her way to the Mountain Rangers, preferring to trust her safety to those brave spirits, well knowing that her sex would entitle her to protection from these brave mountaineers. These young ladies have lain in the mountains for months, with no bed but the earth, and no covering but the canopy of heaven. They have shared the soldier’s rough fare, his dangers, his hopes, and his joys.

The great crime with which these daring young ladies are charged by the enemy, is cooking, washing, mending and making clothes, and buying powder for the soldiers. We are informed that they are both ladies of the first rank at home, and are every way worthy of the highest place in any society where virtue, integrity, and sterling principle give position.–Southern paper.

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