u u
I1B IS A FREEMAN WHOM THE TRUTH MAKES FREE, AND ALL ARB SLAVES BESIDE.
II. A. MI1KD, rublUher.
II. JOIIXSTOB, Editor.
EBENSBURG, FA., THURSDAY, MARCH 12, 18G8.
NUMBER 7.
VOLUME 2.
The Cambria Freeman
WILL BE PUBLISHED
EVERY THURSDAY MORNING,
At Ebensburg, Cambria Co., Pa.
At the following rates, parable tcilhin three
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twenty five, six months; and fifty numbers,
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Each subsequent insertion,
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Special and business Notices tight cents
per line for first insertion, and four cents for
e.ich subsequent insertion.
Resolutions of Societies, or communica
tions ot a personal nature must be paid fur
as advertisements.
JOB PRINTING.
We have made arrangements by which
wo can do or have done all kinds f plain
and fancy Job Printing, such as F.tioks,
Pamphcts, Show Cards, Bill and Letter
Heads, Handbills, Circulars, &c, in the best
style of the art and at the most moderate
prices. Also, all kinds of Ruling. Blank
looks, Book Binding, &c, executed to order
as good as the best and as cheap as the
cheapest.
A
XOTJIEIl NEW WRINKLE !
BOOTS AaD S h'OS
Foil ALL AGES AXI) BOTH SEXES.
Iu addition to his large stock of the beet
Eastern made
SHOES, BUSKINS, GAITERS, &c,
Fur Ladies' and Childress Wear,
the subscriber m ju.-t added to his assort
ment a full and complete invoice of
Boots and Shoes for Men and Youths,
which he will not only warrant to be supe
rior to any goods of like character now beiDg
i;fered in this market, but Tastly better in
rvery respect than the slopshop work with
which the country is flooded. Remember
that I offer rro article for sale which I do
not guarantee to te regular custom made, of
the tree material and superior finish, and
whthe I do not pretend to compete in price
with the dealers in auction goods. I know
that I oau furnish BOOTS. SHOES, Ac,
that will give vtore service for less money
than any other dealer in this community, and
I pledge myself to repair, free of charge, any
article that may give way after a reasonable
time end reasonable usage. Everybody is
respectfully invited to call and examine my
stock and learn my prices.
The HuhBcriber is also prepared to manu
facture to order any and all work in his line,
of the very best material and workmanship,
and at prices as reasonable as like work en
le obtained anywhere. Ficnch Calf. Com
mon Calf, Morocco and all ether kinds of
Leather constantly on hand.
(C7 Store on Main street, Ecxt door to
Crawford's Hotel.
JOHN D. THOMAS.
Kbrnshnrg. Sopt. 26, 1867.
JECURK THE SHADOW ERE
THE SUJ3T.AXCE FADES.
PICTURES FORTHE MILLION.
Having located in Ebcnsburg, I would re
spectfully inform the public that I am pre
pared to execute PHOTOGRAPHS in every
Htylo of the ait, from the smallest card Pic
ture to the largest sized for framing. Pic
tures taken in any kind of weather.
1' HOT 00 RAP IIS PAINTED IX OIL
INDIA IXK OR WATER COLORS.
Every attention given to the taking of
Children's pictures, but io clear weather only .
Special attention is invited to my utoek
of large PICTURE FRAMES and PHOTO
GRAPH ALBUMS, which I will bUll cheap
er than they can be bought elsewhere in
town. Copying and Ejdarging done on rea
sonable terms. I &sk comparison and defy
competition.
Thankful for past favors, I solicit a con
vince of the same. Gallery on Julian street,
two doors south of Town Hall.
T. T. SPENCE, Photographer.
jenburg, Nov. 14, 18G7.
RB?SBURG MARBLE WORKS.
TUav,nS purchased the Marble Works
on High street, one door east of T. W. Wil
!ani Haruward Store, and supplied myself
WUli an extensive stock of TOMBSTONES,
I am now prepared to furnish all work in
my line at the lowest city pricet and feel
confident that I can render entire satisfac
tion to all who favor me with their orders.
Parties desiring to purchape Tombstones are
respectfully invited to call and examine spe
cimens on exhibition at my shop. Orders
from a distance will be promptly attended
to, and work delivered where desired.
Jan. 30. 1868. OTTiNGER REED.
IURTA1N PIXTUKE!
lias no superior M n ihe WoridH
It fa DroTiounoofl JL fiT,.t jiVa
have used ft. and it is predicted that it will
supersede all other Curtain Fixtures now in
use. For sale by GEO. HUNTLEY.
A THRILLING ADVENTURE.
The town of Liverpool, in Nova Scotia,
situated about sixty miles from Halifax,
is a place of some magnitude for a colo
nial outpost. It is, and always has been,
remarkable for the neatness and comfort
of its houws, for the activity and enter
prise of its people, and for the wealth and
well being of all who choose to be indus
trious and incline to lay up worldly
goods. The intercourse with Halifax,
The capital of the province, was, at the
period of which we speak, chiefly kept up
by a smart and dashing little craft, called
the Liverpool Packet commanded by Cap
tain Bass, which plied weekly between
the two places throughout the spring and
summer months, laying up during the
severity of the winter, when the commu
nication with Halifax was, for the most
part, limited to a weekly post by land.
About the year 1815 or 181G, as the
season for navigation was drawing to a
close, a great number of passengers went
to Halifax, as was the custom, to replen
ish their stores for the winter, while
many heads of families proceeded thither
to purchase clothing, groceries, &c, for
their private winter stock ; and as this
was to be the last trip of the season, the
halo barque was crowded with some forty
or fifty parsengers, chiefly fathers and
mothers of large families who were left at
home
The voyage to Halifax was prosperous.
The vougers made their purchases, and
in due time the Liverpool Packet was
ready to return. All the passengers em
barked in good spirits and the barque
sailed cheerily down the harbor, and
proceeded for her destination.
A few hours after her departure there
sprang up one of those terrific northwest
ers, so well known on the coast of Nova
Scotia, and blowing with the utmost fury
for several days, attended with intense
frost. It was clear that no vessel could
keep the coast ; she must either put herself
before ten wind and run out to sea, or all
perish miserably by wreck and the rigor
of an atmosphere twenty or thirty degrees
below zero. A change of weather so
sudden, so severe, and so unexpected,
gave rise to great fears for the safety of
the little packet and the next post by land
was anxiously waited for by friends and
relatives at both towns.
Ti c post at length arrived, but brought
no tidings of the Liveipool Packet ;
another post and another came in, and
yet no news of the missing vessel. Search
was then made alursg the shore to sec if
the wreck could be found, but not a ves
tige could be discovered. The bold began
to doubt, and the timid to despair, aud
the opinion was at last arrived at that the
vessel had been blown olF the coast, or
sunk in a gale. If the latter, she and her
passengers were, of course, irretrievably
gone, as no person ci u'd live in boats in
such weather ; if the former, there was
still hope that the next arrival from Ber
muda would bring some intelligence.
We will not attempt to describe the
deplorable state of mind of the people in
the once happy little town, for nearly all
had a relative on board, either father,
mother, brother or sister. Prayers were
put up in the churches, and a gloom
mantled over the countenances of every
one.
Advices were in due time received from
Bermuda, but nothing was heard from the
little packet and her passengers. Ac
counts were also received from several of
the West India Islands, but still without
intelligence of the missing vessel.
Three months at length passed awa',
and the packet was given up for lost.
Thore who had friends on board went
into mourning, and prayers were even
offered up for the r?pose of the souls of
the departed ; and so connected were the
different families with each other through
out the town that the Sunday on which all
who had friends put on black, put nearly
the entire population in the habiliments of
woe.
Four months had now passed away;
the mourners, notwithstanding their irre
parable los5, were becoming reconciled to
their bereavement; for there is a philoso
phy in the human heart which teaches
us to bear with fortitude great losses,
when those of less severity are met with
impatience. All hope had now fled ; the
vessel had, without doubt, foundered and
gone to the bottom, with all on board ;
but when, or in what pait of the vast
ocean, was to remain veiled in the secrets
of the deep until the sea should give up
its dead.
Sixteen weeks had now elapsed, when
one fine morning in the spring some sea
faring people down in the Fort descried a
strange brig approaching the harbor. She
attracted attention from the circumstance
that, although a stranger, she was navi
gated by one who well knew the entrance
of the harbor, for the came in without
pilot or shortening sail. The quick eye
and watchful habit3 of seamen could not
lightly pass over such a circumstance, and
the report of a stranger vessel coming in
soon spread through the little town, and
many persons assembled. The best tele
scopes were ".put in requisition, but none
could make out who or what the stranger
was. As she drew nearer to the anxious
group, her deck was discovered to be
crowded with male and female passen
gers. "Ah!".' exclaimed one who had a certain
indefinable hope, as that hope sank within
Lim, "au emigrant ship, after all," and a.
deep sigh came from his bosom ; for he
had a uear and dear friend on board the
little Packet, "n emigrant ship !" said
another ; "how can any captain of an
emigrant ship know so well his way into
this harbor Besides, emigrant ships do
not come to Liverpool." pause ensued,
during which one with a quick eye was
gazing through the best glass the town
afforded ; be was on one knee, resting his
telescope, when he suddenly sprang on his
feet, and declared that Captain Bass was
among the passengers ! "Nonsense I"
was the incredulous cry ; "Captain Bass
and the Liverpool Packet are at the bottom
of the sea, and will there remain till the
day of resurrection."
Not daunted by their incredulity, he
said, "Give me the trumpet ; I will speak
the brig. In a few moments she will be
near enoug h. What brig is that ?" The
response was given. . "Arc TOU Capt.
Bass ?" " Tt," was the reply. A few
words sufficed to reveal that the vessel had
been blown olF, and for many days went
before the wind with great rapidity. as
the gale abated, Capt. Bass found lie
conld better reach the West Indies than he
could get back with so small and so
crowded a vessel. Us-ng their provisions
economically, and slaking their thirst with
c';d.r inJ the barrels cf apples that were
on board, they reached Barbadoes. There
the captain sold his sloop, bought the brig,
and came back safe with all lis jjosscngers
The joyful news flew through the town
with the impetuosity of lightning, and ere
the vessel could be brought to the wharf
the entire population of the place had as
sembled to meet and embrace there friends.
It would be in vain to describe such a
scene all were in mourning yet all
with a smile of joy beaming in their coun
tenances. A3 the long lost mends and
relatives leaped on shore, fathers, mothers
and brothers were locked in each other's
arms, and then the smiles became tears of
joy.
But how was such a scene to end how
could it, or how ought it to end, with a
moral and Christian people ? There is iu
the dep-hs of the fountains of the human
heart an ever living spring, from which
flows its purest and most sacred emotions
There arises the principal of rcligio.i, the
sense of accountability to God and love
for all goodness. This impulsive feeliug
came fjrth in a gush of spontaneous grati
tude ; and the tears and sobs bad scarcely
ceased, when, with one sudden impulse,
the whole assemblage sank on their knees,
and in a burst of pious fervor poured out
thanks to the great and merciful Being
who had so singularly preserved them
and who holds us in the hollow of His
hand.
This extraordinary circumstance is not
within the recollection of many persons,
but a fw still survive in Nova Scotia who
have a distinct remembrance of it. In
its relation we may have omitted many
details, but the general outline is entirely
true.
A Lake Dried Ur. A few days ago
the water from Ottawa lake, in Monroe
county, Michigan, all at once disappeared.
The Coldwater Gazette states that the
water had begun to subside for some days,
and the teamsters who carried stoue from
the lake noticed that the holes at which
they watered their cattle were crowded
with fish. They increased in numbers,
both large and small, the former having
their mouths wide open, and soexhaustod
that the people caught them with their
hands. The work cf quarrying and
hauling stones was soon abandoned, and
in a short time scores of teams and
hundreds of men might Le seen on and
around the lake. The men, with hand
spikes, crowbars, and axes, were busily
engaged in cutting and raising huge pieces
ot ice, and then stooping down and lift
ing the fish, Eome of which were dead,
some alive, and some froxen fast in the
ice, for the water ha ing departed from
the lake by some subterranean passage,
the vast sheet of ice lay on the bottom.
For three days immense qantities of fish
were carried away, principally pickerel
and bass, while vast quantities of white
fish are left to rot on the ice and in the
mud for mud and ice are all that is left
of Ottaway lake. Numerous pieces of
the ice are left standing on edge, like so
many grave stones. The lake, or rather
its bed, or gravevard, presents a novel
scene. Some say the water will soon re
turn by the same source by which it do
parted, bringing a fresh supply of fish
with it for Lake Erie is supposed to be
its headquarters. Meantime the farmers
in the vicinity greatly feel the loss of the
departed waters. About seven years ago
this lake departed in the same way, and
old men say it departs and returns peri
odically. In the Caucasus Mountains, at a
place called KuJaco, it is stated a well of
naphta has been discovered. At the
depth of two hundred and seventy-four
feet from the surface the liquid was first
struck, and for a month gave a supply of
fifteen hundred barrels daily. Since then
a fresh source has been met, and the
naphta rises with force to the height of forty
feet above the grouud, the jet being four
inches in diameter, and delivering a daily
supply of eight thousand barrels.
Josh Billings Rays : "There are a
great multitude of individuals who are,
like blind mules, anxious enough to kick,
but can't tell where."
'IIOMC, SWEET HOME."
Night dropped her shadowy vail over
London, and the mantle of mists that all
day long had enveloped the city, grew
more dense and fell in beaded drops of
rain. The gas lights burned brightly at
the corners, but it was a dreary night to
bo out iD. Yet crowds filled the streets,
for even in night storms, the great thor
oughfares are never deserted. Guilt and
wretchedness are always wakeful and
abroad. To realize the desolation of lone
liness, one must be a stranger in a crowded
city, with a sensitive nature, and a refine
ment that shrinks from rude contacts, and
uncongenial companionship.
Alone in the country, with the blue sky
above us, and the green grass beneath our
feet, there are charms that woo us to for
getfulness. There is music in the running
stream and beauty in the flowers that
grow upon its banks. Some German
writer, I have forgotten who, calls flowers
the stars of earth and stars the flowers of
heaven. Fair and radient flowers they
are and shed their brightness on the smokej
wreathed city, but in their matchless,
solteuod and mellowed light seem to linger
more pleasantly on r.rcou fields and wav
ing corn.
Alone in London ! Dreary and desos
late reality, that swelled almost to burst
ing a weary and aching heart. The
stranger gathered his thin cloak around
his shivering from, and drew his hat over
his face, with a sensitive shrinking from
the crowd that rudely jostled past him.
He was alune in London, and very poor,
uot even a shilling to procure a scanty
supper.
Somewhere in a dark part of the city,
where the gas lights were few, up many
pairs of stairs, was the garret in which he
slepf, but in it there was nothing save the
darkness, one broken chair and a wretch-,
ed bed with its scanty covering.
When he entered this desolate chamber
in nights like this, an unseen company
surrouuded him, the spirits of the view
less air, and in the waitings of the wind
they told him strange mysterious tales of
wretchedness and dread, until, half wild
with daik imaginings, he rushed forth in
the night and the pelting storm. Thus
through the chilling sleet anl rain he
walked the streets, louking into the hard
faces of the passers by and wondering if
in all London there was another man who
had no one to care for him, no one to
love him. And then he. thought how
deliciou.-dy strange it would seem to him
a stranger aud a wanderer for many
years to be loved.
He hoped the blessed light would dawn
upon him, but in the darkness of this
night it seemed a great way off. The
cloud of poverty and gloom that wrapped
his heart was too cold and deep, he feared,
for human sympathy and love to penetrate.
He seemed to 6ce before him, Fate,
with wierd fingers, weaving the mystic
web of his lonely destiny, and as he
watched the phantom hands with feverish
intensity, he wondered if at some future
day a mantle cf brightness might not fall
upon him instead of a pall. A strain of
sweet sad music broke in upon Lis lonely
musings. Over all refined natures music
has an ubsorbing power, and though it
often fills the soul with Badness, it casts
upon it the spell of an irresistible fascina
tion ; aud the stranger paused in his des
olate walk to listen to the song. The win
dows of the princely mansion were but
half vailed, and he could soe the happy
group that surrounded the piano, and the
fair girl that sang the soft minor air which
sank into the listener' a heart.
He was a poet, and bad written songs
of tenderness and love for others to sing.
Himself, he could uot 6ing with such
a weight upon his heart. The light of
genius was in his eye, aud the imagery
of a fervid imagination gathered round
his brain, and the poet's native impulse,
loving, warm and true, lived within his
heart.
In the sensitive and gifted the longing
for sympathy and love is far more intense
than in ruder natures, and all his life
long his heart had yearned with passion
ate eagerness for the pure delights of home
and the bliss of sympathy and love.
The song was over, but still he linger
ed, watching the firelight's fitful glow, as
it shed its ruddy sheen upon the changing
group.
Again the fair girl look her seat at
the piano and sang with inimitable grace
and beauty "Homo, Sweet Home,"
It was his song !
He, the homeless wanderer, had writ
ten "Home, Sweet Home."
He stood out in darkness and night,
listening to his song, the child of his own
heart aud brain, and looking in at the
window of "Home, Sweet Home," knew
that in all the world there was no home
for him.
The song ended. He sat down on
the stone steps Of the stately mansion,
with the rain beating heavily upon him,
and burying his face in his hands, wept
in the biterness of his heart.
Years passed away, and still he was a
homeless wanderer Often in the streets
of London, Berlin, and Paris, ho heard
"Home, Sweet Home," which in all lands
and all hearts had become houaho'.d words.
Later in life he became Consul to Tunis,
and died a stranger in a strango land.
Never, save in his dream, bad he known
the blisa of "Home, Sweet Home 1"
Carpenters pay heavy board bills.-
A MAX OVER HO A It I).
BY IKE MARVEL.
It was one of those thunder and light
ning gales at night, when, for a moment,
all would be as light as day, and a moment
after as dark that you could not see an
oar's length from the vessel. The captain
was forward, and all hands except the
cook and myself aloft.
Ihe ship was pitching madly, and the
waves were topping up sometimes as high
as the yard arm, and then dipping away
with a whirl, under our keel, that made
every timber in our vessel quiver. The
thunder was roaring like ten thousand
cannons, and every now and then, as I
said, half the sky would split into a stream
of lire, that glared over the tops of the
waves and glistened on the wet deck and
the spars, lighting up everything so plain
that I could see the men's faces at the
niain-topand catch glimpses of the reefers
on the vard arm clinging like death
then all would be horrible darkness.
You ; could hear the spray spitting
agaiust tho canvass, and the great waves
breaking on the weather bow, and the
howl ot the wind through the rigging, and
now and then, when a gasket gave way,
and the sails bellied out to leeward you
could hear the canvass splitting like the
crack of a musket. You could hear, too,
the Captain forward, screaming out orders,
and the mate in the cross-trees, screaming
them over, till the lightning came, and
then the thunder both together and
deadened their voices as if they'd been a
pair of little chirping sparrows.
It was in one of these flashes that I saw
a mau on the yard arm lose his foothold,
as the ship gave plunge, but his arms
were clenched round the spar. Before I
could see any more, the blackness came
over, and the thunder broke with a crash
that half-deafened me. I thought I heard
something like a tiny howl, as it died off:
and sure enough, at the next Hash of
lightning, which came in a moment, what
should I see on the top of one of the waves
along side, but Tom Meeks ; the lightning
glared on his face, so that I could sec the
look iu the poor fellow's eye.
As good luck would have it he had
caught hold of one of the studding Fail
sheets as he fell, and as we pitched, I
could see it slipping off the coil upon the
deck.
I shouted, like mad, "Man overboard !''
and had just time to catch the rope w hen
we could see nothing again. I was a boy
then, and couldn't hold on by the rope;
the sea was too high, and the man too
heavy for me.
I shouted, and shouted, and shouted,
and felt the sweat starting all over my
forehead, as the rope slipped through my
hands. Poor Tom had been our messmate
for a year, and we all loved him
Presently the captain felt his way aft,
and took hold with me just as the coil was
nearly spent, and we pulled upon him, and
the cook came, and we three hauled to
gether upon him.
Poor fellow ! it must have been des
perate work for him, for the ship was
drifting at a prodigious rate, and we pull
ing at the same time but he clung like
a man.
By-and-by, at a flash, we saw him on
a crest, three oars' length away from the
vessel
"Hold on my man," shouted the Cap
tain.
"For God's sake be quick !" said the
man, and he went dowu in a trough of the
sea.
And wo pulled ihe harder; and the
Captain kept all the while calling to him
to keep up courage and hold on. But in ;
the hush we could hear Tom say :
"I can't hold on much longer I'm
almost jrone."
We called out the more to him to hold
on, and presently got him where we could
a'most lay hold of him, and were ouly
waiting for a good lift of the sea to bring
him up, when the poor fellow groaned
out i
"It's no use I can't good-bye," and
a wave tossed the end of the rope clean up
upon the bulwarks
At the next flash we saw him going
down under tho water.
I shall never forget how he looked for
I saw him plain when he said ''good
bye," and let go his hold.
In a neighborhood where I once lived
a man and his wife were almost constant
ly quarreling. During their quarrels their
only chtld (a boy) was generally present,
and had of coarse caught many of his
father's expressions. One day, when the
boy had been doing something wrong the
mother, intending to chastise him, called
aim and said : "Come here, sir ; what
did you do that for V
The boy, complacently folding his arms
and imitating his father's manner, said :
"See here, madam, I don't wish to have
any words with you."
Tw'as Sunday night ; the moon shone
bright, and all was cool and shady, when
a gay young gent down High street went
a walking with a lady. They talked of
love ; he called her dove ; he told of his
affection. She heaved a sigh and turned
hor eye in an opposite direction. But
why that start that chil!3 tho heart, as if
with ice incrusted? Ah do not blame
sweet M , to hair pins she has trusted,
but hear her shriek or rather speak : 'My
water fall has busted !'
General Grant at Fort Donaldson.
The New York World, having been
provoked thereto, has instituted a histor
ical examination into some of the military
exploits of General Grant. It shows up
his doings at Fort Donelson as follows,
backing up its report by extracts from the
most approved official and Kadical au
thorities :
Perhaps the time has not yet come when
that achievement can be estimated with the
cool impartiality of history; but the
friends of General Grant, by inviting
public attention to it anew, will cause ils
merits to be discussed, and discussion, in
the present ripe state of information, will
contribute to a just and enlightened judg
ment. Occasions will arise for estimating
the other parts of General Grant's milita
ry career : and as this is his first great
success in the order of time, as well as
the most brilliant of them all in the opin
ion of his admin rs, it fitly enough intro
duces tho general discussion.
What the public recollection fastens
upon in that really important achievement,
iu not any brilliant stroke of strategy, but
the spirited sentence in General Grant's
reply to the rebel General Buckner, which
is repeated by Senator Morgan, and was
held up as comprising the essence of all
true strategy, or rather as the ail-suflicing
substitute for strategy, by Secretary Stan
ton, " prcyiose to move immediately vjwn
your works." As tho penning of this
vigorous reply is the most memorable
thing done by Gen. Grant in the seige of
Fort Donelson, we are obliged to estimate
its merits , which, so far as it has any,
must consist in its sol Jici -like intrepidity
and vigor. This is a merit which depends
on circumstances ; rising with the difficul
ty and danger of carrying such a racna( e
into execution, and sinking to nothing if
there neither is, nor is suoio.-ed to be, any
difficulty to be confronted or considerable
obstacle to be overcome. Now, in point
of fact, General Grant knew all that had
taken place in the rebel camp the preced
ing night. A circumstance stated by Mr.
Greeley in his "American Coufliel" con
clusively shows, not that this was not a
fit reply to be made (for it was eminently
fit;, but that it is no evidence of gr atucss
of spirit or superior military vigor. Mr.
Gree.'oy shall state this d sjiichantirg cir-
curiLvft ice in h.s own language : "JJurinJs.
tuQ ntght, a negro had escaped from the icbcl
ItiUi, and given our Laders their Jirst clear
information of the sti aits of the enem y. ( Gen
eral Grant was tlta-eTure not surprised at rc
cciving, about daylight, the following over
ture." General Grant knew that General
Floyd, tho rebel commander, and General
Pillow, the next in command under him,
had given up all hope, and" had made their
escape : that they had devolved the com
mand of the fort upon General Buckner
for the purpose of putting upon him the
mortification of the inevitable surrender,
which was to be offered the next morning ;
that Floyd had taken away with him his
Virginia brigade in boats during the night ;
that Forrest had escaped w i:h his cavalry ;
that the rebel soldierc remaining wcrccom
pletely exhausted by prolonged exposure,
without sleep, with scanty clothing, in
biting winter weather ; and that Buckner
was no longer able to resist an assault.
With this knowledge, there was p rfect
propriety, indeed, in Gen.-Grant's answe",
but certainly no heroism. Considering
that he kneio that there was no danger to
brave, nor even any lesistnnce to encoun
ter, t! at reply has acquired a wholly un
deserved celebrity. It is a laurel which
must fade and wither from the moment
the fact recorded by Mr, Greeley, in his
history of the war, becomes generally
known.
As nobody remembers anything of Gen
eral Gram's strategy in the Fort Donelson
seige, and as all pretence of any was fur-
borne by his eulogist at the time, and its
absence admitted by clear implication in
crying up immediate movement upon the
enemy's works as a substitute which put
strategy to the blush, there is no popular
illusion to correct on this head, like the ex
travagant estimate of the reply to Buckner.
Whatever military merit was displayed in
tho operation before Fort Donelson was
due to General C. F. Smith, an able sol
dier who had been General Grant's in
structor in the Military Academy, and
who, by some inexplicable jumble, was
acting as his subordinate. That General
Gram's military superiors thought the
chief merit of that siege due to General
Smith is an award of which we have con
clusive proof in the fact that Grs nt was
immediately afterwards reduced to the
position of General Smith's subordinate.
To sustain this statement it suffices to
recite another passage from Mr. Greeley's
American Conflict" : "General Grant's
victorious army, after a brief rest at Fort
Donelson, recrossed, considerably strength
ened, to the Tennessee," just above Fort
Henry, where several gunboats and a
large number of transports, passing down
the Cumberland into the Ohio, and thence
into the Ttnnessee, took up our soldiers by
regiments and started th$n-tm a new
movement up the Tennessee. General
Charle3 F. Smith had been designated by
Genend Hailed; to direct tis moeemsttt, but
was soon disabled by tie sickness of which
lie died not long after reaching Savannai,
Tenn. land General Grant teas thus restoud
to chi'f command"
Ixit this fact of the immediate subordi
nation of General Grant to one of his own
subordiuates after tho capture of Fort
Douclson, be duly weighed. It proves
that those who bad the best opportunities
estimating his merit?, and who were most
concerned to estimate them justly, (their
own reputation being staked on the success
of subsequent movemeats,) ascribed the
success at Fort Donelson to the subordi
nate they placed over him. Geueral
Smith unfortunately fell sick and died ;
and the disgraceful first day at Pittsburg
Landing showed how great a loss the
country sustained in his death, and vindi
cated the judgment which had been form
ed of Gen. Grant, Although Gen.
Grant was attacked by an inferior force,
nothing but the timely arrival of Gen.
Bucll saved his army from total destruc
tion. Forrest, who had escaped from
Fort Donelson with his cavalry the night
previous to the surrender, had gone to
join Gen. Al'ert Sidney Johnston, who
thus had the means of learning from a
very alert observer the opinion which had
I e.n formed of the milit iry ability of Ge i.
Grant by those who fought against him
at Fort Donelson. It is of some interest
to know what estimate had been made
of Grant by capable judges on the other
side. We quote again from Greeley's
history of the war : "Having a spy in
nearly every dwelling in Southern Tennes
see, he Gen. JohnstonJ was doubtless
aware that the command of that army
Lad just been turned over by General C.
F. Smith, an experienced and capable
soldier, to General Grant, so recently from
civil life ; and he had no doubt of his
ability to accomplish its destruction."
Which he was in a fair way of doing
when he fell in battle, and General Beau
regard would have finished the job. if
Buell had not arrived just in time to re
trieve a shameful disaster. We do not
propose, at present, to review fihat dis
graceful Sunday. Our object in referring
to it is merely to show (hat the estimate
of General Grant by those who fought
against him, and who had the strongest
motives to guage his cap icity correctly,
was identical with that formed by bin
military superiors who did not think it
safe to put him in c xnmand of the new
movement. The judgment formed on
both si 'ea was fully vindicated by what
immediately took place at Pittsburg Land-
r-
It is proper to say a few words more
aboul Fo.t Donelson." Its capture was
(like all Gen. Grant's successesj'achieved
by thi shocr force of vastly prerjonde-at-ing
numbers. The number of prisoners
received iu surrender by General Grant at
Fort Donelson, aside from the wounded,
was only eight thousand, as estimated by
Mr. Greeley, (although reported by Gen.
Grant at nearly doulle that number');
a-id Grant's own force at the time was
something like forty thousand. That the
capture was due to mere numbers is proved
by General Halleck's letter of thanks to
General Hunter, in which he says : "To
you, more than to any other man out of
this department, are we indebted for our
success at Fort Donelson. In my strait
for troops to reinforce General Grant, I
applied to you. You responded nobly,
placing your forces at my disposition.
This enabled us to win the victory."
The rebel numbers were so few that they
could not relieve their men on duty, who
at last succumbed to physical exhaustion
and not lo the strategy of General Grant.
Mr. Gieeley says, sp iking of the time of
surrender: "Their outnumbered, roughly-handled
force, bad endured eighty-four
hours of alternate fighting aud watching,
w hile suffering all tho hardships of a win
ter campaign, and were so outworn as to
fall asleep standing in line of battle when
actually under fire.! Gen Grant's great
achievement consisted in the capture of
eight thousand of such woi nout, unresist
ing soldiers, with an army of forty
In u a d.
We shall examine Gen. Grant's other
successes (of which tliis ranks as one of
the most brilliant) when bis friends invite
attention to them by celebrating their an
niversaries.
Folly of Discontent. The following
beautiful passage, form Rodger's Italy,
well illustrates the folly of discontent :
"I was weary of life, and one day, such
as some have known and none would wish
to'rtmembcr, I was hurrying along tho
street to the river, when 1 felt a sudden
check. I turned and beheld a little boy,
who had caught hold of the 6kirt of my
cloak in his anxiety to attract my notice.
His look was irrcsistable. Not less so
was the lesson he had learned. 'I hero
are six of us, and we are dying for want.,
of food-' Why should I notj said I to
myBelf, relieve this wretched family ? I
have the means, and it will n delay mo
many minutes- But what ifMf does?
The sccne'of misery they conducted mo to,
I eannot jlescrtbe.-.,rL threw them my
purse, and their burst of, gratitude over
come me. It filled my eyes -it went to
my heart. I will call to-morrow, I cried,
Fool that I was to think of laaving a world
where such plcasuro was to . be had, and
so cheof ;"
Sometimes people have eutertained an
gels unawares, but a Green Moui.tain l.y
who has been peddling maps in his nativa
State,'i3 evidently not of that stamp. - His
plan is to go to a farmer's house for a
night's lodging and food for himself and
horse. When the bill is presented in the
morning he astonishes the farmer by ask
ing to "see his license to fcerp a tavern.
Of course the license is not produced, and.
the bill is not paid. ' . . ..
r
h ii