The Waynesburg messenger., April 23, 1862, Image 1

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A family Vaper—fleneteb to Politics, griculturt, fiteraturt, scituct, Art, foreign, pontestif ant, &nerd jutetlfyirt, ticr.
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if l *using 13usiness Carbs.
ATTORNEYS.
R. A. .3.LCONNELL,
dTTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR -dr LAW,
Waynesburg, Pa.
ErOffice in the new frame building corner of Main
and Washington streets, and nearly opposite the new
Hotel.
.Collections, &c.. will receive prompt attention
Waynesburg, February 5. 1862-Iy.
J.A.J. Buctoor sm. Wm. C. 1.11 , 11111EY.
BUCHANAN & LINDSEY,
ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW,
Waynesburg. Pa.
Of f ice on the South side of Main street, in the Old
Bank Building. Jan. 1, 1562.
A. A. PURMAN. .1 G. RITCHIE.
PURMAN & RITCHIE,
ATTORNEYS AND coUNsELLoRS AT LAW,
Waynesburg, Pa.
irrAlt business in Greene, Wa , Mington, and Fay
ette Counties, entrusted to them, will receive prompt
attention. Oept. 11, 1861-Iy.
IL W. DOWNEY,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law. Office in Led
with's Building. opposite the Court House.
Sept. IL 1861-Iy.
DAVID CRAWFORD,
Attorney and Counsellor at Sam. Office in Sayers'
Building, adjoining the Post Office.
Sept. 11, 1861-Iy.
C. •. BLACK. JOHN PECLLN.
BLACK -8E PHELAN,
ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW
Office in the Court House, Waynesburg.
Sept. IL 1881-Iy.
PRTSI.OI.ANS
DR. A. O. CROSS
WOULD very respectfully tender his services as a
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, to the people of
Waynesburg and vicinity. He hopes by a due appre
ciation of human life and health, and strict attention to
business, to merit a share of public patronage.
Waynesburg. January 8, 1882.
DR. A. J. DOG!
RESPECTFULLY offers his services to the citiaens
of Waynesburg and vicinity, as a Physician and
surgeon. Office opposite the Republican office. He
hopes by a due appreciation of the laws of human life
and health, so native medication, and strict attention
to business, to merit a liberal share of public patronage.
'April 9, 1862. .
DR. W. P. SHIELDS.
,:-PRACTICING PHYSICIAN.
Mice in rile old Roberts , Building, opposite Day's
Rook store.
Waynesburg, Jan. I, 1861.
DR. D. W. BRADEN,
•
l'hyaician and Surgeon. Office in the Old Bank
',4ktilding, Main street. - Sept. 11, 1861-Is.
DRUGS
DR. W. L. CREIGH,
Physician and surgeon,
And deliver in Drugs, Medicines Oils, Paints, am,
/cc., Main street, a few doors east of the Bank.
Sept. 111, 1861-iy.
M. A. LIARVEY,
Druggist and Apothecary, and dealer in Paints and
Oils, the most celebrated Patent Niedieines, and rure
Liquors for medicinal purposes.
Sept. i i, 1801-Iy.
MEROHAMTS
WM. A. PORTER,
Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Foreign and Domes
tic Dry Goods. Groceries, Notions, &c., Main street.
.8. . 11,1861-Iy.
GEO. HOSKINSON,
Opposite the Court House, keeps always on hand a
s„large stock of Seasonable Dry Goads, Groceries, Boots
sna•Shoes, and Notions generally.
Sept. 11, 1861-Iy.
ANDREW WILSON,
Dealer In Dry Goods, Groceries, Drugs, Notions,
Hardware, Queensware, Stoneware, Looking Glasses,
Iron and Nails, Boots and Shoes, Hata and Caps,
Main street; one door east of the Old Bank.
Sept: 11, IS6I-Iy.
IL CL4RK,
Dealer in Dry Goode. Groceries, Hardware, Queens
ware and notions, in the Hamilton House, opposite
the Court Monte. Main street. Sept. It. 1861-Iy.
MINOR & CO.,
Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods, Gro
ceries, Queensware, Hardware and Notions, opposite
Mg Green House. Blain street.
Sept. 11, 1861-Iy,
01.0TEUTO
N. CLARK,
- Dealer in Men and Aare Clothing, Cloths, easel -
metes, Sin:Wets, Rees -sad-Cape, &e., Main etr.et, op•
pangs the Court House. Sept. /I, 1861-Iy.
A. J. SOWERS,
Dealer in Men and Boy's Clothing, Gentlemen's Fur
nishing Goods, Boots and Shoes, fiats and Caps, Old
Sanktlanding, Main street. Sept. ii. 1861-4 in
1100 T AND 811011 DBALEAS
J. D. COSGRAY,
Boot and Shoe maker. Main street, nnarly oppoisfre
the "Farmer's and Dmver's Sack." Every style of
BOOM and Shoes constantly on hand or made to order.
Sept. 11, 1861.—1 y.
J. B. RICKEY,
Boot and Shoe maker,Blachley'a Corner, Main street.
Boots and Shoes of every variety always on 117,..13 or
made to order on short notice.
Sept. il, 1861-Iy,
GROCERIES & VARINTIES
JOSEPH YATER,
peeler in Groceries and Confectioneries, Notions,
Medicines, Perfumeries, Liverpool Ware, &c., Glass of
*II si z es. and Gilt 1111ouldity and Looking Giase Plates.
pakfibrgood dating Appios.
per. 11, 1811,-.41:
JOHN MUNNELL,
Raqier in Groceries and Confectinawies, sui s d Variety
tint* Generally. Wilscm's New Building, Main street.
Saps 11, 1861-17.
E==3
LBWS 'DIM
Dieserk
Paelle ""i thiwinnallksit• Seic 111 Z
` ,l l qutztrurg BEssfilyt
Wednesday, April 23, 1862,
THE LATE JUDGE DOUGLAS--EULO
GY BY HON, 3OHN WENTWORTH.
Notwithstanding the pressure on our
columns, we cannot resist the tern
to publish the following eulogy on STE
PHEN A. DOUGLAS, the idol of the National
Democracy, and one of the ablest states
men of his day. It was delivered recently,
in the Constitutional Convention of Illinois,
now in session at Springfield, by "Long
JOHN WENTWORTH," for many years a
member of Congress from Chicago, and at
present editor of a Republican daily jour
nal of that city. Let every body read it.
It does no more than justice to the distin
guished dead:
MR. PRESIDENT : I was not aware of
the programme of this afternoon, and
did not suppose there would be any
remarks made here, except, perhaps,
by the mover of the resolutions: con
sequently, nothing was further from
my intention than addressing the
convention on this occasion. Nor
did I conclude to say anything until
the sentiment fell fV'om the lips of
the gentleman from Shelby, (Mr.
Thornton,) namely : "The good that
men do lives after them."
The remarks concerning the life
and character of the distinguished
statesman which have fallen from the
lips of honorable gentlemen at this
time, have been confined almost to a
single question in American politics,
which has now gone to the court of
final resort. It may be settled by
battle to-morrow, or the next day;
or not for years. We are all anxious
for its settlement, upon the immuta
ble principles of justice. And there
is no doubt such settlement will have
to abide the fate of this war. I leave
it with the war.
I propose to enlarge upon the text.
"The good that men do lives after
them ;" I desire to apply that text
to the age, to the day, to the very
hour, to the scenes by which we are
surrounded, in which we now live,
and to speak of facts with which we
are all familiar.
Judge Douglas died poor. He ,
had filled almost every position in
public life—all but one to which he
had aspired ; but he died poor. He
had been a polotician. Ile was a
partizan himself amongst partizans (
and competitors, but never, in the
severest contest in his career, was it
charged by the most bitter of his
opponents, that he had put his fingers
too far into the public treasury.
Never was he the• richer for any
position he ever held. A poor boy
he came into your legislature; and a
mere boy he went out of your legis
lature—the richer for no charter that
passed it; for no scheme of private
speculation or plunder. He went
into Congress. He sat in his seat
there session after session, while un
told millions were passed upon; but
who ever said, much less believed,
that one cent of public money went
wrongfully into the hands of Stephen
A Douglas ?
Like Clay, Webster, Benton, and
other great and honest men, he died
poor. How many gentlemen are
now within the sound of my voice,
who have had business with Stephen
A. Douglas, and where is the man
that ever dared to broach the propo
sition to him, that with his success
with this or that legislative enact
ment, he might possibly be the rich
er ? And how few of our public
men, in this corrupt age, can be so
spoken of ?
There is another evil of the times,
with respect to which Judge Douglas
shines as conspicuously as he does in
the matter before alluded to. It is
the fashion now-a-days, when a man
attains public position, to drag all
his relatives into office after him. It
is a noted fact in the history of man
kind that greatness does not apper
tain to a whole family; that when a
large ameunt of brain is concentra
ted in one head it is very often taken
in the same proportion from the
heads of others of the same family.
Judge Douglas, when elected to office,
considered that when the people vo
ted for him, they did not vote for
the whole family of Douglasses and
their collaterals. Never did Stephen
A. Douglas in his life put his hand
upon a recommendation for one of
his relatives. I know it is true that
he had relatives in office, but they
acquired those offices as be himself
acquired his—upon their own intrin
sic merits.
My first acquaintance with Judge
Douglas was daring his campaign
against John T. Stuart. He was
then as poor as when he died. He
had not the means of carrying on
the eampaign in a manner to secure
him a proper degree of personal
comfort. AM his success depended
on his talents. Well do I remember
when I parted from him in Chicago
after he had made his first speech
there. He was leaving on horseback.
I asked what I cold do for him. He
said: "Keep the boo plainly befbre
14'4 rebple." had when-f mked hi* 1
whst eonisidensi Ike Wan; kirtaak
a pan , W and wrote : "Shall our gov
WAYNESBURG, GREENE COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 23, 1862.
ernment be a government of the
banks or a government of the peo
i ple ?" Words . that never died on
Imy ears to this hour, and I hope
never will, while God gives me
strength to put a vote in the ballot
box, for the old Jacksonian princi
ples.
He stood on that issue, and no man
! did as much to implant the sub-treas
ury principle in the hearts of the Amer
ican people as Stephen A. Douglas.
j The next time I saw Judge Doug
! las, he came to Chicago as one of our
Supreme Judges, who then perform
,ed circuit duties. He was ridiculed
as the "baby Judge." and especially
was he ridiculed for his presumption
in daring to come to Chicago to
hold court, where we had then, as
now, some of the ablest lawyers in
the Union. I remember an agree
ment which was mad 3 among his
political friends. It was that they
should not disturb him during the
evenings, so that he might have an
opportunity to study the grave ques
tions of law which might come be
fore him for determination. But I
never found him with a law book in
his hand. The fact is, no man ever
studied books as little. He had an
intuitive sagacity, that grasped CVQ
ry legal question the moment it was
submitted by a member of the bar.
He knew what the authority ought
to be, and I can safely say; that, un
popular as he was with the bar when
he came to Chicago, he went away
the most popular Judge that we ever
had in that circuit.
We met again, and that I'VIS in
the American Congress to which my
colleague, Mr. Phillip, has alluded.
I shall never forget the hour—that
great hour to me, when he arose on
that floor and made the speech con
cerning Jackson's fine—that great
effort, with reference to which Gen.
Jackson afterward took his band and
complimented him by saying that
he had never found his own fall jus
tification until he read it in the
speech of Judge Douglas. That
speech made him a leader in the
House of Representatives.
And well do I remember the great
celebration of the Democracy on
Bth of January, 1844, in honor of
the passage of the bill refunding
Gen. Jackson's fine. It was the
last time the united Democracy of
; America ever assembled together on ;
a festive occasion. I think I see the
stars that composed that galaxy of
1 talent and patriotism now shining
before me. There were Silas Wright,
Col. Benton, Levi Woodbury, Gen. '
Gaines, the late Vice President King,
Judge Wilkins,
Senator Sevier, Gen.
Dodge, and, in fine, every one of that ;
glorious band of Democrats who
adorned that day, but the most of
whom have, with Gen. Jackson, pre
ceded Judge Douglas to their final
destination. On that occasion, ever
to be remembered, there was no
man more highly complimented by
all present than Judge Douglas, for
his efforts in the halls of Congress.—
The
Elijahs marked him out as the
Elisha upon whom their mantle was
soon to fall. I knew Judge Douglas
well at the time of the passage of the
Illinois Central Railroad bill. There
was money at that time in that bill,
but not for him or for his emolument.
Illinois stocks had previously gone
down very low, and our State been ,
brought almost to the very verge of
repudiation. It was understood
that the bill was to pass the next
day. A stir was made in the lobbies
and among the bangers-on about
Congress, with the idea that a good
time was coming, and many started ,
to New York to speculate in stocks.
Judge Douglas had the same oppor
tunity among monied friends as oth
ers, but it was his boast that he never
would make a cent through his po
litical position.
Douglas was naturally a great man,
as much so as any man that ever
adorned American history. Ile was
ambitious, but it was not so much his
own as the ambition of his friends
in his behalf. With them there was
no man like Douglas. With them
there was no place that ought not
to be filled by Douglas. With them
here was always the place for Doug
as, and now was always the time
for Douglas. Many have asserted
that he would have been President
but for his own anxiety. In this
case, as that of the gallant Clay, it
was not his over anxiety, but that of
his friends. Scarce was one Presi
dential election decided before they
began the contest in his name for the
next.
Mr. President: I make
.these re
marks as due front one who opposed
Judge Douglas in the latter part of
his career, so far as related to the
extension of slavery, but from one
of his most ardent friends and ad
mirers in all those measures in
which he walked in the footsteps of
the fathers of our constitution.—
Indeed, he may bo said to be the
only man whom personally, over
and above all others I ever desired
to see made President. I never wish
to become so strongly personally at
tached to any other man. It is dan
gerous to be so, for we should al
ways follow prihnipies rather than
Men: • But when- 1 almost adored
Mu I agreettiiith- kiln in prifle*lima.
Our separation °continued for APPIr-
,tation
eral years upon our disagreement
touching the propriety of the exten
sion of the ordinance of 'B7 to all
new territory. But when he made
his last speeches in this hall and in
the Wigwam at Chicago ; I recogni
zed him no longer as a partizan,
but as a patriot, fighting for the
same constitution, the same flag,
and the same country as myself.—
After these speeches, the last parti
cle of animosity in my bosom and
in the bosoms of my political asso
ciates died out. I thought that I
saw that the enemies of our repub
lic's existence reasoned well for the
furtherance of their designs, when
at Charleston they declared it neces
sary to destroy Douglas before
they could destroy the constitution
of their country. From the proper
ty cf a mere party,. Judge Douglas,
by these speeches, became the prop
erty of all the loyal people of the
(wintry. His speeches, like those
or Patrick Henry in the revolution,
roused his countrymen as one man
to the defense of their flag. He at
once culminated in the zenith of uni
versal admiration ; but in the mys
terious workings of that Providence
who overrules all things for good,
that culmination was of short dura
tion. He died, the great man of the
time, and whom have we, as a pop
ular leader, to take his place ? And
to recur again to that sentiment up
on which my remarks have been
predicated, may the good that Ste
phen A. Douglas did, live after him;
may his dyinz, advice to his children
be engraver upon all our hearts, and
be the incentive to all our actions.
itistttlaitious.
THE DRUMMER-BOY Or MARBLE-
HEAD.
BY ANNIE SAWYER DOWNS
[We have the assurance that this
story is literally true.—Rds. Independ
nt.]
The whole city was wild with tri
umph at the victories of Fort Donel
son and Roanoke. Cheer after cheer
went up from the Exchange, - and
people were almost momentarily jost
ling each other in the thronged
streets, and instead of begging par
don would burst outin a shout for the
old flag. Woman -that I am, as I
hurried home in the twilight of that
glorious day, I had to hold my muff
close to my mouth to prevent my
voice from swelling the great thanks
giving. Turning the corner of my
own street, I was astonished to see
that my parlor was brilliantly light
ed, and through the thin curtains I
likewise saw figures moving rapidly.
I ran up the steps, and soon discov
ered the reason, for as I opened the
door all my own children and sev
eral of my neighbors rushed with a
great sweep into the hall, and for a
moment I was nearly stunned with '
their cheers for the Fort and Stars 1
and Stripes, set. At last, at the vol
ley fbr the gunboats, they stopped
from sheer exhaustion, and I asked
very meekly, "What in the wJrld
are you down in the parlors for ?"
"Well, mother," gasped Will, "we j
wanted to play we were gun-boats,
and the nursery wasen't big enough.
See me now; I am going to run up'
within four hundred yards of the
guns of the Fort," and with a yell
like a wild Indian's, he brandished a
cane and made a charge at a book
case, coining within an inch of smash
ing my Dante and Beatrice. I
winced, but did not scold them, only
enticed them into the less crowded
dining-room, where we played gun
boats and cheered until their father,
coming home to tea, rather shocked
us by saying gravely that he should
have to send us all to the watch
house. Many incidents of the battles
he told the eager children as we took
our tea, and just before their bed
time, as they stood around him for
the customary story, he told them
the one I shall try to tell you.
"You all know," said their father,
"how last April the Massachusetts
troops were attacked and murdered
in the streets of Baltimore, and how
the whole heart of New England
thrilled to avenge their death.—
There was a young boy of Marble
head, only fifteen years old, •Albert
Mansure by name, who came from
school on that day wild with indig
nation, and told his mother that he
was going to the war • he couldn't
stay at home. 'Why, war;
laugh
ed his happy mother, 'they won't
have you; you are too little, my boy.'
can dram, can't I, mother ?
guess those old rebels will run when
they hear me play the Star-Spangled
Banner,' and out he went, and his
mother heard him playing the smart
old tune as he marched down the
street at the head of a tatterdema
lion set of urchins, called by him his
regiment. He had a gift for drum
ming, and thinking of his words
that mother's heart stood still with
fear. He was her only child, her
handsome boy; how could she kt
him go ? But she scolded herselifor
even thinking of it. Of course, Ws
lather , would kee' hint hoton.-.0.
Attiainniutilinie Alba* , satialkod
father on the subject, bat Ala ,fathai
' f peremptorily answered 'no,' and told
him there must he no more talk on
the matter. Usually his father's
decision settled things, but this time
Albert urged manfully. He could
do just as good service as anybody ;
he ought to go; he must go. But
Mr. Mansure was firm, and he had to
yield although the struggle was so
severe that he grew pale and thin.—
At last, to divert his attention, they
sent him to his gandfather's in Au
gusta, and fervently hoped he would
forget his fancy. But when he arri
ved there he found a regiment all
ready to go into camp a short way
from the city. He accompanied them
as a drummer. • His father and
mother, as the weeks went by, be
came impatient, and at last went for
him. As they rode through the
streets, almost the first person they
saw was Albert marching in a fine
uniform, with this sante company,
who were on their way to the sta
tion. He had kept his promise to
them, that is, he had not enlisted, but
they telt from that day, they must
let him go. He went home with
them, and after a few weeks they
gave him up, and he enlisted in the
Mass. '23 1. C'ol. Kurtz, as drummer
for one of the companies, being tha
youngest in the regiment. Dear
little ones, 1 can never tell you Low
his mother felt, how his father in his
bitter grief prayed, how many hot
tears stained the few articles he
could carry, and then almost as sor
rowfully as to his burial, they went
to see hir4 start. That day the poor
parents talked long together, then
the father went out, and while he
was gone the pate mother knelt
with her face hidden, asking for
strength and patience. When be
came in, Albert knew that he should
not go alone; his father had enlisted
as a private in the same company,
so as to take care of that idolized
boy. They sailed in the Burnside
expedition, and on all that long,
dreary passage, Albert was the light
and joy of his regiment, and indeed
of all the regiments on the vessel.—
So full of hope and enthusiasm was
he, that his father wrote his mother,
all the petting he got did not seem
to hurt him a bit.' Officers and men
delighted to do him favors, and his
prompt, saucy drumming won praise
from the gallant commander him
self.
-When the hazardous work of
landing began, Albert managed to
be in one of the first boats, and was
consequently among the first to
stand on the enemy's Island of Roan
oke—theirs then, ours now, thanks
he to God. In that march through
slime and water, he did his part
well, not allowing his father to touch
his cherished drum for an instant.—
At last they came in sight of the en
erny's battery. 'Who will go and
take it ?' asked the general com
manding. 'The Mass. •23d,' was the
quick reply. 'Forward, then, double
quick !' and in the teeth of that gal
ling fire they rushed to their death
as it had been to their bridal. Al
bert slung his drum over his shoulder
and seizing a rifle from awounded man
near, dealt true shots for his coun
try. His father fell wounded by his
side, but he heeded him not, his
whole soul had lost itself in the
work before him. 'Look at that
child,' said one officer to another;
'no wonder we conquer when boys
fight so.' At last the position was
ours; the rebel gunners turned and
fled, and for an instant the roar of
the battle ceased. So intent was Al
bert that he never stopped, and was
loading again, when the Colonel
touched his shoulder. 'Wait, rest a
minute, my young hero—don't you
see they are running ?"Oh, glory
hallelujah I' sang out the excited boy;
'didn't I say they should run to the
old tunes ?' and seizing a disabled re
volver for a drum-stick, he struck up.
in a wondrously defiant way, our
impudent old strain of Yankee Doo
dle. It was a strange sound as itrang
out over that field of death, and
faint and weary as our brave fellows
were, they gave it a rousing welcome.
A flying rebel heard it, and looking
back, took sure aim at Albert. A
man near the boy saw him, and tried
to pull Albert down, but he stood his
ground, and the ball did not fail to do
its deadly work."
"Oh, father!" burst from the tear
ful children ; "not killed, was he ?"
"They thought him only stunned
at first, and bore him out of the
crowd; they bathed his brow; and
you will love his knightly colonel
none the less when I tell you that
his strong arms held the dying boy.
His pale lips moved at" last, and they
bent eagerly to hear his words.—
Some inquiry for his missing father,
some last precious words for his lone.
ly mother? No; only this, boylike,
'Which beat, quick, tell me ?' Tears
ran like rain down the blackened
faces, and one in a voice husky with
sobs said, 'We, Albert, the geld is
ours.' The ears death had already
deadened caught no sound, and his
Flight hand fluttered impatiently as
again he gasped, 'What, tell quick?'
'We beat 'em intirely, me boy,' said
a big Irish sergeant, who was trying
like a baby. • He heard, thee, ANS
his;roles was aestatogand.britisa
4“ 1 0P Melte aidtweetalOkitAkla
go after 'em ekes aim 1114
catch up—l'm a little cold, but run
ning will warm me.' He never
spoke again, the coldness of death
stiffened his limbs. and so he passed
from the victory of earth to the God
who gave us the victory. They laid
him down tenderly, with his head
resting on a smooth green sod, and
as his wounded father crawled up to
see him, they feared a wild scene of
lamentation, but he only said. 'lle
would rather die than bad us beaten.'
He was urged to go home with Al
bert to his mother, but he would not,
only saying to their solicitations,
'Albert would be ashamed if I did,
and I will fight for him as long as
the war lasts.' "
The children did not play gun boat
any more, but went quietly up to
bed, and when Nellie said her pray
ers, she adrhd, in simple childish
words, a hope "God would make
Albert's mother willing Lc should be
dead, and that God would tell her
how Nellie loved her ;" and here the
tender little heart broke down—but/
Will said, "God knew jus', lits well as
said it a!i," and I think he did.
RETREAT OF N'
BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT
One of the most memorable daeds
offortitude and heroism recorded in
the anna!3 of war was perfo_•►Led by
Marshal Ney, in the retreat from
Moscow. With a division of five
thousand men he was etr, off from
the remainder of the French army.
Kutusott, the Russian general, with
eight thousand men, including nu
merous cavalry, and with two hund
red pieces of artillery, had effectual
ly blocked up his passage.
Ney, with his little band of half
famished soldiers, wavering in their
languid march, with guns defective
and dirty, and with but six pieces of
cannon, rushed upon the hostile bat
teries, and maintained the unequal
conflict, in the vain endeavor to cut
his way through the masses of the
foe, until night darkened the field.—
Then at midnight, with no thought
even of surrender, he ordered his
troops to turn upon their track, and
march back again into the wilds of
Russia.
With amazement the troops heard
this command, which, without hesita
tion, they obeyed. It was a cold
gloomy winter's night. The frozen
ground was covered with snow, and
the blast pierced the worn out cloth
ilig of the soldiers. For two or
three hours they traversed, in dark
ness, the savage waste till they came
to a small river. Breaking the ice, to
see in what direction the current ran,
Ney said, "This stream must flow in
to the Dneipor. It shall be our
guide."
The feeble band, cold, weary and
hungry, struggled along until they
reached the Dneiper. Its broad and
rapid current was clogged with float
ing masses of ice, and in one spot only
to which a lame peasant conducted
them, was the ice sufficiently firm for
them to attempt a passage. And
even here it was necessary to pass
with the utmost caution. Ney, wrapt
in his blanket, slept for an hour upon
the snow, while his troops passed
over in single file. The ice bent and
cracked under their feet.
They then attempted to pass the
wagons over, ladened with the sick
and wounded. The frail surface
broke, and several of the wagons
sank beneath the ice. A few faint
cries only were heard, as the suffer
ers disappeared in their cold and icy
sepulchre. By crossing the Dneiper,
Ney hoped, in a long detour, aaia to
reach the army. The Russsiat4
lowed this feeble band in its retrftt,
keeping beyond musket shot, but
firing incessantly upon their victims
with artillery, from every available
eminence.
Napoleon was at Orcha, waiting in
the most intense anxiety, to hear tid
ings from Ney. Four days had pass
sed without even a rumor of his fate.
The whole army was looking back
across the Dneiper, hoping to catch
a glimpe of his advancing columns, or
to hear the report of his artillery. At
the close of a day of solicitude and
watching, another wintry night en
veloped in its gloom these retreating,
woe-stricken armies. Napoleon was
partaking of a frugal supper with
Gen. Lefebvre, when a shoat of joy
was heard in the street, and Ole
words, "Marshal Ney is safe," fell
upon his ear. At that moment aPcr
lish officer entered with the tidings
that the Marshal was a few leagues
distant, on the banks of the river,
harrassed by pursuing Cossacks, and
in want of immediate assistance. Na
poleon sprang from his chair, seized
the informant by both arms, and ga
zing into his eyes, exclaimed
"Is that really true ? Are you sure
of it ? I have two hundred nzillions
of gold in my vaults at theTuilkeies.
I would have given them sal to save
Marahisl Noy.'
Instantly Eugene-was dispatched
with five thousand men for the res
cue of the Marshal. Eagerly the
soldiers left their bivouac fires for
tkreir inidliight march. For six raiiei
t+ toiled along through tbiessunk
ti C
*- Mit $U OW , °rill ke en
dafto` dhilimi 0 aoidoClow
twarMmilidheetailisAdt, r• , - at
NEW SERIES,=-VOL, 3, NO, 45
river, which was their only guide,
flowed drear and chili at their side,
encumbered with vast quantities of
floating ice. Gloomy forests of ever
greens frowned along their path, and
no sound but the tramp of Eugene's
battallion disturbed the silence of the
night.
At length Eugene ordered his ar
tillery to be discharo•ed,,as a shout to
call the attention of his friends. Lis
tening anxiously, they heard far off
in the distance, an apparent response,
a feeble report of musketry. The
Marshal had not a single pieceothir
tillery left. Both parties, however,
understood the language of their
guns, and hastened to meet each
other. They were soon united. Offi
cers and soldiers alike threw them
selves into each other's arms, and
many of these war-warn veterans
wept for joy:
The re-united bands, forgetful of
past perils and the still greater oues
they were yet to encounter, returned
cr
reio'cin to Orcha. As Marshal Ney,
e • zn
with soldierly simplicity and t/DOS
tontttion, gave a recital of the dan
gers and difficulties he had surnioun
ted, and the hardships he had endur
ed. Napoleon grasped his hand, and
immortalized him with the title of the
"bravest of the brave." Again Napo
leon said, in reference to this same
achievement, in words which will
never die, "better is an army of deer
commanded by a lion, than an army
et lions commanded by a deer."
During this retreat, an unnateral
mother, who was one of the camp fol
lowers, weary of nursing her crying
child, threw it out in the snow to
perish. Ney chanced to witness the
inhuman deed, and lifting up the
child soothed it tenderly, and restor
ed it to its mother, in the sledge, cOtri
mending the mother to take charge
of it. But soon again the woman,
whose heart was rendered callous by
misery, threw the child into the snow.
The Marshal again rescued the little
one, and took it under his special pro
tection, carrying it for some time in
his• own arms. The indignant soldidft
hurled the mother from the sledge,
and left her to be picked up by ithe
Cossacks, or to perish on the frozen
ground. The little orphan was watch
ed over with the greatesbetre by the
soldiers, as they covered it up with
furs and blankets in one of the sledg e .
es. The child was carried, in '.the
arms of a soldier, through all theliet
rors of the passage of the Rereeitia,
and surviving the hardships attic
most disastrous retreat mewled
the history of the war, at nth
reached Paris in safety.
In the passage of the %reliant ,- ,
which soon followed, .Ney again. dis
played. his heroism through scenes ef
horror which have rarely besa:par.
elided, and never surpassed upoutitS
globe. The genius of the French etre
gineers speedily threw two bridges
across the stream.. The . French and •
consisted of but 27,000 fighting ,'•,.
and a disorganized mass of 40 ►
stragglers. While the phreutiied
mass were straggling over theca
bridges, the Russians, from the adit
cent heights, were hurling upon thefts
a storm of shot and shell. Sixty thekt
sand Russians manned these batteries.
Noy, taking with himbut eightthou
sand troops, plunged into the dent
masses of the foe, drove there beibre
him, and took six thousand prison;
ers.
Through the long bows of a wick
ter's night this horrid scene of tw.
mull and carnage continued. Mtn
sands were crowded from, the brides
into the icy stream, ausi - ealsk *sal
shrieks which rose above the either.
ders of the battle. A fearful tompkait
arose of wind and smothering wow.
The black mass of men and vragoiti
enabled the Russians to direct that*
guns With unerring aim. The :haw.
ling of the storm, thegloosaof night §
the flash and roor of artillery, the ez
plosion of shells, and whistling of
balls and bullets, the cries Om*,
and the shrieks of the dying,. mien
ted a spectacle which has gtveishbe
Passage of the Beresipa perhaps:46m
most prominent position among tU
the horrors which . have occurrectito
this lost world. The
.ne.mbers hstit
have never been ascertained. 'Had r.
sands were sat tto aastela
eitl iza
rial. But in
. e& Sp — ~, eilpflre Ibi
melted avray,taiehretfi ci:4o.o
were dragged from. timid
.....
shwaUtr Chiassa
The customs of the Citi4Se
Lially singular. The Witt we kawe dea l
cribed is that for ova hundredvhsysir:fter
the Enveror'e tasilkilley will riot
their heads.gb th4VbAa 1-
darina wear erkisioustalioi-keepsre piste
stripe of colored paper upon tileiretwie.a.
They date their year *Oa thp etitr4,o4
the reigniag Empalme
4151 *
The late Emperor 414 bieg l ampoiuh e
year will retain hAt
. miiiMggi lo b os
it will take the owidowis i m a m - l a c .,"
and who
child about six. years ar t i r , and who fs fa
be Officially callediteelrionng.
' 4I P ""
A Cu"nous BEQ4111031". 011006.11011 rt
tantikrOPial, latoly deoesirod, *Oa
tufa le& a ear at Await 610111014611 K
die ilium* of ambit* tali, mokiasabit
Mit ityibg *I
the
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