Monthly Archives: April 2019


When the Union lines advanced towards Corinth, a battery was planted on an eminence commanding a considerable portion of the country, but completely shrouded from view by a dense thicket. Scouts were sent out to discover the exact position of the rebels, and were but a short distance in advance, to give a signal as to the direction to fire, if any were discovered.

One of the rebel commanders, unaware of the presence of the nationals, called around him a brigade, and commenced addressing them in some thing like the following strain:

“Sons of the South: We are here to defend our homes, our wives and daughters, against the hords of Vandals who have come here to possess the first and violate the last. Here upon this sacred soil, we have assembled to drive back the Northern invaders–drive them into the Tennessee. Will you follow me? If we cannot hold this place we can defend no spot of our Confederacy. Shall we drive the invaders back, and strike to death the men who would desecrate our homes? Is there a man so base among those who hear me as to retreat from the contemptible foe before us? I will never blanch before their fire, nor—–”

At this interesting period the signal was given, and six shells fell in the vicinity of the gallant officer and his men, who suddenly forgot their fiery resolves, and fled in confusion to their breastworks.

Originally posted 2008-05-05 19:49:56.

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The following is given by an officer on board the United States steamer Richmond, after the bombardment of Fort Pickens:

I went, by invitation of Lieut.—, of the Engineers, to visit the fort. Took a circuit first of the covered way, then of the parapet and ramparts. All around the Fort, inside and out, were marks of the enemy’s shot and shell. On the glacis, here and there, are deep grooves, ending in a large hole, where the shot had plumped into it, and where there had been shell which had burst. The hole was a great excavation, into which you could drive an ox-cart. Where the projectiles have struck the standing walls, they have clipped off patches of the brick-work (it is a brick and not a stone fort) perhaps eight or ten feet deep, and, where they struck the corners, larger portions have been removed; but in no case has any part of the fortifications received an injury tending in the least to weaken it, and this after two days’ heavy firing. The only man who was killed outright during the two days’ action, was an artilleryman, who was passing into the casemates with some bread from the bake-house. A shell exploded at the other side of the area, and one piece, flying a distance of some two or three hundred feet, passed through his body, under his arms. He walked a few steps and fell dead. There were many almost miraculous escapes. A shell was heard coming towards a gun on the parapet, and the men dodged under their bomb-proofs. The shell hit fair on top of the bomb-proof, went through, and dropped into a pail of water beside the officer, where it exploded. When the men came out again to resume their work, all they saw of the officer was his heels sticking out of a pile of rubbish. After digging him out, they stood amazed to see that he was not even hurt. He rose up, shook the sand from his hair and clothes, and coolly said: “Come, come! what are you standing there gaping at? Load that gun there.” At it they went again, as if nothing had happened. Another officer, who had charge of a battery of mortars, had no less than seventeen shells strike within ten yards of him. I saw the ground ploughed up in every direction, and yet not a man was hurt. About twenty of the men, who had been relieved from their guns, were sitting smoking and watching the firing in a corner protected from shot by the walls, when half of a huge shell struck, and buried itself right in the middle of the group, without disturbing them in the least. “What’s that?” asked one. “The devil knows, and he won’t tell,” indifferently responded another, and went on smoking. A ten-inch columbiad came rolling towards a group, the fuse whizzing and smoking. “Wonder if that’ll hit us?” “Guess not; we’re too near it!” Crack went the shell! flying in every direction, but fortunately injuring none of them. The rebel powder was poor; as also their shot, except that portion which they succeeded in stealing before the rebellion broke out. Their practice, however, was said to be good–how could it have been otherwise? Uncle Sam taught them at his unparalleled school at West Point, but with little thought that the teaching would be thus employed.

Originally posted 2008-05-04 23:57:22.

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A REBEL soldier, after burying a Federal who had been killed during one of those sanguinary engagements which terminated in the retreat of the Union army from before Richmond, fixed a shingle over the grave, bearing this inscription:

“The Yankee hosts with blood-stained hands
Came southward to divide our lands.
This narrow and contracted spot
Is all that this poor Yankee got!”

Originally posted 2008-05-03 12:36:47.

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Mr. H. Jallonack, of Syracuse, N. Y., exhibited to the editor of the Journal of that city a valuable relic–a Protestant Bible printed in German text two hundred and twenty-five years ago–the imprint bearing date 1637. The book was in an excellent state of preservation, the printing perfectly legible, the binding sound and substantial, and the fastening a brass clasp. The following receipt shows how the volume came into Mr Jallonack’s possession:–

NEW YORK, AUGUST 21, 1862.

Received of Mr. H. Jallonack one hundred and fifty dollars for a copy of one of the first Protestant Bibles published in the Netherlands, 1637, with the Proclamation of the King of the Netherlands. This was taken from a descendant Hollander at the battle before Richmond, in the rebel service, by a private of the Irish Brigade.

JOSEPH HEIME, M. D., 4 Houston Street.

Originally posted 2008-05-02 14:49:23.

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