- rAS. LOWuilJ«iTfe. JP. WIESOJr,
AITOBNEYB * Cfi’jNSgLLOflS AX LAW, will
attend tho Ccurti ,f. Xioga, Potter and McKean
fcnanties. g. lSdß.] -
fllCKlTfidt HOCSJE
boSIf- T.
MiJ. A. Field, . ...Ll ••!•••• Proprietor
Guests taken to and fbnjt'thji Depot free of charge.
' j.; ’ ;
ATTOKSET cbIfNSELLOIV AT I/AW
Wellsboto,: Tiog? Co.j. I’a. Will dev.otohis
Ume exclusively to thSepraetice of law. Collectipns
made in any of tHo ffottbern counties of Pennsyl
yania. . '■/'[ ;H ; .■ n0y21,60
l»E’\]\S\l.V tNJIA HOUSE.
Corner o£ Masa Sfreet'avß] the Avenue, VAellshoro t Ea.
. i ,J. W'. lilGOSti PP.OPKIETOR.
. ro-fitted re
ftnniahed through out,as -to the public as a
first-class house.
IZAIK WAtioS HOUSE,
; B ,C. VERMIS'PROPRIETOR.
■ Gaines, Tlog-iConnty, Pa.
THISSs anew hotelslocated within easy access'o
tho best fishm-and'kintiUg grounds in Northern
,pa. No pains will & tipif^iT o ? > he accommodation
if pleasure seek?™ fu<3 the traveling public.
April 12..1860. f '■■■ ", |
’. G. C. SMtdPELE, ' ’•
HAUSER
S' HOP in the rear of llfisfogt Office. Every thing'in
his hno will bo do|d»ajll Veil and promptly as.it
-can be done in the ally ‘ealohnA ■ Preparations forre
. moving, dan draff, and hgatttifying the hair, for sale
cheap, flair and whiskers dyjd any color. Call and
gee. Wellsborp, p». >
‘ HAiftaffslllOTßE.
THOMAS G&ifl- Proprietor.
[Formerly oJ^i'ieWiingtoii,Ho{eU) .
THIS Hotel, ko> by David Hart,
is being gnew. The
subscriber has leai-ed «Ma|crm of years, where he
mayhefeundready t&fgsilhipon his old customers
and tho traveling puhlfq^n|rany % Ills table will
be provided with the b,e?f iha|morket affords. At his
•bar may he fouhd the polecat brands of liquors and
cigars, 'I . ?JI 11 ‘ I
Wellsboro^Jan. 21 .• ■
WELLSBjojltjdji HOTEL.
B. B. HOLLIDAYsj . -Proprietor.
rpHE Proprietor bp.v’ipg igiin taken possession of
I the above Uotej, fvMifpiiro no pains to insure
ihe comfort of guest* litjd tfcf' toweling pbblio. At
tentive.wniters alfeajs reaßy./;,. Terms reasonable.
Wcllsbofo, Janj2h, • - .
J JR.,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
■ KXOXVILLB, PA. -
Prompt attention #gifen i&l.the .procuring of Pen
sions, Back Pay of «&c. .
Jau.'T, 18Go.-Cm*X f> \ ■
\ ,• . fcW -
Q. w. fe CO’S. SANK,
GOBj]SCiNjj|4 N.'y. 5 .
(Located iff Iran House.),
American Gold torn bought&nd sold,
*IS T ew York .i‘ 'do.
Uncurrent Jloney^' l |j «r ' do.
United States “ old issue” bought.-
Collections made in of thq Union ,at Cur
rent rates of Exchange, ,’f %
Particular will be tnldim to accommodate our
patrons Erointhe Tioga VE&eJr.,. Our Office . Kill be
open at 7 A. M., ami P, HI., giving parties
passing over Tioga Road ample time to
transact their business before the departure of tho
‘ -nd) ’
HAYINtr with a legal firm in
Washington, b£ i posges|es first rate facilities for
tho prosecution, of fir Pensions, Back-Pay,
Bounty, and'all oth-er/ against tho Gov
ernment. All such claimajyritfl he attended to with
promptness and fidelity, Ind[. ‘ r no charges” will be
made unless
Muldlelmry Centre,lS62.-3rn.
■ .JOHSM'-MANr*,
A TXORXEY £TbqS|ELU)R AT LAAV,
CoiiiTersport, ajten’d the several Courts
in Potter and McKf up .All business dis
trusted to bis care w|il reeoivje prompt attention. He'j
has the agency of laif-je trab«[ of good
afld will attend to tb< payjuost of taxes on-any lands
in said counties. £ . * !
Cofidersport, Jan-. /
wool. ASD
C L'O T H teE S S ,
'm THE AT
Wfelisboroug|*.|sp|a County, Pa.
rrUIE subscriber hi* sing«t|ttl op the place for the
I purpose of'Wos }Cattlir||jf and Cloth Dressing,
and also would ipfoif rtheEptyplo that wc will take
wool to manufacture^|n' sakrtaor by the yard, to suit
cu=tomers, and people that we can
card wool at any titf j-hasij'oflx works run by steam
power, and also wqolijwill bo carded for four
cents-per pound. produce will bo taken for
pay for the saipo. . jfi/lj*
N. B. v Prompt atte *&ori|wUl be paid to all favoring
us. Wo will give go id’safe&ctio.u.
• - CHARLES LEE, .
‘ JOHN LEE.>
_ ' ’
8150 1 ' BESY'T£IAXbs. • 150
JOS. P. DALE’i vCO.Jii»Tiog‘romoved to their
new warerooms, [ i ,jf
Nor 4|I;4SB|)APWAV.
aje now prepared t£> yfle# tlie public a magnificent
new.scale full • .* J/.J
Welisboro, Jun<| I
• 7. OCTAVE' OOD PIANO,
containing in this country
or Europe, ovor-slrter#', niss,' Erench grand action;
baty pedul ; full f>Vr t
$l5O & CASH,
S Years/
moulding casds, 1
5200;.-S2fiJ& i .B3oo,
all warranted mu4e of seasoned material, and
to stand better tljan auv for $-100 or $6OO by the
old methods of mlanufad jibe/ "We invite’
' DEAEEESTEACHERS' .
in all parts of thd act as agents, and to.
tost those unrivalled Sleinvay & Sons,
Chickerißg'ib Sous, dr manufacturers..
Jos) R S CO.,
47§ BROAD&& SEW VORK.
,~,oct. 22. ISCS.'-4mjjf -f
HO^tfes
, A KEW .STOV® Hsfcl
just been opeiyd Ti T|
, Be found a good asVfifcpint
Box Stoves, ot the QKpt?a|)pa
the beat ‘A'fr
. miltod to bo the j&v C
iharket,, The .c .
11 Q OLDEN Jif (xl . \
are square, flat top i
with many advantagfiftjvej
iflade, * Parlor Stov^sT^ho*:
both very'peat
Abo Tin, CopperjMsritrfehb:
hand and $
rial and workmanstffafpcfl
the lowest figure fcgf.s*|fhlorPi
Job, work Of afl"£« s Mil
Xroga, Jaii. ll'fli. f,'\}.
■ PENl^lf^GtiNCy.
mHp ol ‘? lßfi^A i ‘ :, x > r HBIR FE IENDS.
'1 uIE undersigned considerable expo
n!" P ru «?r|Sg ifeujiiim Bounties and Bock
'“f ?,? ?" T-‘ "‘““‘‘Mbusiness in that line
ostod to his :oioptneSß and fidelity.
or alu ODS Wl!h J n ? to too will plonse call
d dress mo by IcttcrgtjStivama.Bradfdrd County,
r % <*"£« reasouab cj: GEO. P, MONROE,
by permissf Vtif i
I p:SroJ^:- ! # er '> ell£boro ' Pa
. ! "‘mf ■ • - ..v- ■
iTHE AGITATOR.
It had been the day for drafting in a little
town id the hill-country of Connecticut. It
was night-fall now, and a man walked slowly
home to the wife who watched and waited for
him. He was a tall, handsome fellow—thirty
five, perhaps ; vigorous of limb, strong of mus
cle,' with kindly yet earnest eyes, well cut fea
tures, anijj an expression of fearless integrity.
You would have triown him at once for what
ho was—a good, unselfish, courageous-, honest
man. worthy of winning, capable of holding a
woman’s love.
She who listened for his coming heard the
slow step upon the gravel, and sprang from
the door to meet him. You could see, even
in that dim light, what a bright, cheery, pret
ty woman she was; with'her loving eyes; her
dark, satin-smooth hair ; her red, tender lips ;
and' the fresh roses on her cheeks. She went
up to her husband and pother hands on his
arm lovingly.
“ I know you have bad news for mo, John!”
“Yes, Mary; 1 must go. I was tho third
one drafted.’.’
The wife felt her limbs shake, and she tho’t
at first that she could not stand. All the forces
of her nature seemed giving away, but she ral
lied bravely. For his sake she would be calm
and strong; but she could not.apeak just then.
She led him iota the house, where their child
ren were—five of them ; the eldest only ten in
the July just gone. There was something in
their father’s manner which checked the noisy
demonstrations with which they were wont to
greet him, and they only gave him a few silent
kisses as he sat down in the groat chair by the
west window, Ho buried his face in his hands
fur a while, and then he lifted it and looked
round on the little group of bis loved ones.—
'Three girls and two boys, and hia wife, their
motherj-looking, in spite of years of care, as
fair, almost "as young, as the day he brought
her home his new-made bride. His chest
heaved with a long and bitter sigh—a sort of
sob of despair, rather—and then he said, as-if
-ho feared even she, his other self, might mis
understand him:
“God knows, it is. not Tot my own sake,
Mary! Ido not think lam afraid to die. 1
would go with more than willingness, with joy,
if-1 had not so much to leave. If 1 fall, what
will become of you and the children ? I can
not hear to think of what you might suffer,
with no one to stand between you and the cares
and sorrows of the world. Mary, this drafting
indiscriminately does not seem, just. 8 Surely
the single men ought to go first.” '
His wife stole her hand into his very gently.
“Do not think of us,” she said, with a true
woman’s self-forgetfulness. “It is not that.
We should do well enough. You need not
fear that we should come to want. But oh !
John—” And just there she broke down ut
terly, and cried out, with a buret of passionate
tears, " No, I can not bear it! You will die !
I shall never, never see .'your face again 1 If 1
could know that you would come hack, even
were it maimed and-helpless, I would not mur
mur, but to tbiok that you might die there, and
I could not help you—that your eyes would
seek mine, your hands grope for mine, and I
not he there—oh 1 John, I shall go mad with
hopeless horror !”
It was his turn to be the comforter now. He
drew her into the shelter.of his arms ;be res
ted her poor head on bis breast; he whispered
tenderly:
“AH who fight do not die, Mary. God
watches over us there as well as here. Some
women’s husbands must go, poor child U
Something may happen yet that I shall not
have to go.”
He knew, however, no solitary chance under
the wide heavens by which he could escape.
The words with him were but the vaguest! ut
terance of soothing; but she caught at them
eagerly.
“ You could procure a substitute,'perhaps—
is that what you mean ?”
“ I would if'l could,” he answered, evasive
ly remembering in his own mind the difficulty
far richer men than ho had experienced in pro
curing them in those quiet, thinly-peopled,
agricultural towns. “ I am very tired, Mary;
can you give me some tea?”
Cheered a little by her new hope, and nnx
ous, above all, to cheer him and make him
comfortable, the wife got up and went into the
kitchen. The biscuit for supper were-olready
made, and in a few minutes tea was upon the
table. John Morgan drank cup after cup of
it,»with an eager, feverish thirst, but eating
with him was a mere feint. When the meal
was over the children were put to bed, all but
the two, oldest girls. They stole out to the
open door, and sat down in the September
moonlight, their arms round each other—feel
ing, with a sort of dumb pain, that a shadow
which they could not resist' had fallen npoh
the household. Their mother, meantime, had
lighted her lamp and taken her work—a child’A
EAD.
D TIN SHOP HAS
I P.enna,, where may
v‘of Cooking, Parlor and
joved patterns, and from
I lIOMESTEAIJ is ad
sled Oven Stove the
> GOOD HOPE”
stoves, with targe ovens,
any other stove before
Signet and Caspion cte
stoves.
H Iron ware, kept con
order of the best male
which will be sold at
jready. pay.
pded to on call.
lEKSSEY <t SM.EAD,
2Jebote3r to tfte SgjrtenffCort of tf)t anea of iFmbont awh tfjc SprcaO of ©ealt&p meform.
WHILE THERE SHALL BE A WRONG UNRIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN'S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE.
TOIi. IX.
Select soett|?.
BEFORE THE. RAIN,
BT T, B. ALDRICH.
Wo knew it would rain, for aU the morn
A spirit On slender ropes pT mist
Was lowering its golden bucket? down
Into the vapory amethyst *.
Of marshes and swamps and dismal fens—
Scooping the dew 1 that lay in the flowers,
Dipping the Jewels out of the sea
To sprinkle them over the land m showers.
We knew it would rain, for the poplar? showed
The white of tbeinleaves, the amber grain
Shrunk in the wind—and the lightning sow
Is tangled in tremulous skeins of rain!
7 ‘ ' ■' ■ . .
AFTER-THE RAIN.
The rain bad ceased, and in my room'
The sunshine poors an airy flood, -
And on the church’? dizzy vane
Tbe'.ancient Cross is bathed in blood.
Prom out tho dripping ivy-leaves,
Antiqaoly-carvcd, gray and high,
A dormer, facing westward, looks
Upon tho village like an eye.'
And now it glimmers in the snn,
A globe of gold, a disc, a speck
Andjn the belfry sits a dovo -
' With purple ripples on her neck.
Select Slots.
JOHM MOEGAIT'S SUBSTITUTE
WELISBORO, TIOGA COUNTY. PA., WEDNESDAY MORIOTG,, MARCH f 11, 1863.
frock , which she was finishing—to the little,
round stand. She would not let this evening
seem more unlike other evenings than she
could help. ...
Soon there came a footstep up the gravel
walk ; this time a quick, firm tread. The girls
in the door made ..way.fqr the new-comer to
enter, and he came in and stood silently for a
moment in the centre of the little sitting-room.
He was a slender, elegantly-moulded man.—
You could see at a glance that the fire of his
manhood had never yet been tested by any
tough, struggle with fate. Yet one would not
bavk doubted his untried courage. It shone in
his (steadybias' eyes,, sad with -ou- unspoken
paid j i£.betrayed itself |n the cnr! of his lip,
the loorvo of his nostril. They say no soldiers
ever fought moro bravely than the gentry of
England—white ofhqnd, haughty'of look, del
icate of feafnre. Some such blood Sowed in the
veins of Ash Thoruycroft. Ho was the only
son bf the rich mill-ownor whoso foreman John
Morgan was. lie was no stranger at the little
cottage; and even in this sorrowful hour there
wasjno danger of bis. being unwelcome. He
was|the first to speak."
“ pit is hard on you, Morgan, this draft. My
fatber was saying to-night that he did not know
howj he should contrive, to spare you. Sowell
as you’re doing now, too—already comfort and
competence for you -and yours, and better
things in prospect.”
“ It’s useless talking. I think I was not born
under a lucky star. You were! Mr. Tborny
croft’s son, to begin with ; young, rich, with
out a tie to fetter you; and of course the draft
spares you.”
“Without a tie! Do you call that happi
ness;?”
John Morganls eyes fell beneath that sad,
.steady gaze of reproach. He remembered then
one who had died in March, on whose grave
the lonesome spring rains had wept tears which
sprang up again in roses and violets—the gen
tle girl whom Ash Thornycroft had loved so
long and well. .
“ Forgive me,” he said, in a low, penitent
tone. The other went on: -
“ I think you forget yourself a little when
you repine at this stroke as if it were the worst
thing which, could have happened. Would
yo» give up your wife, or one of your children,
eveni to escape from the perils of this war ?’f
“ Did you think I was a coward ?” nnd the
honest soul looked indignantly out of John
Morgan’s eyes. “It was not for myself I
feared, but for them. If I were to fall what
would they do ? I have struggled to shield
them so far as I could from toil, or care, or
privation. How are they fitted to tread the
world's rough paths, alone ?”
“ No, I did not take you for a coward. Jf 1
had i I should not have thought your life
worth saving. I think I know how I should
feel in your place. It is a place in which I
shall never stand, lam going to enlist, John;
It is;my duty, for I have nothing to keep me at
home. lam ready to give alPthat I have to
my country. If I fall I shall only go the
sooner where all my longings tend. What is
to hinder my sparing you to your happy fire
side? I came to propose myself as your sub
stitute.” *
“ it is not, are you sure it is no.t, to spare
me ?, Would you' go in any case f” John
Morgan asked with a Httle doubt in'bis voice.
“ Do not fear that; I am going for your sake.
I made up my mindas soon as the. call came
for the volunteers. I only waited for this very
thing—the chance, if I should not be drafted
myself, of saving some inan who % as, to the
woman who loved him. lam glad it is you,
John, my good old friend, to whom I can ren
der this service.” 11
John Morgan was. a man of few words, of
feeliings which lay so deep that they seldom
rose, to the surface; but there was something
which Ash Thornycroft needed no language to
interpret in the look of his eyes, andYhe grasp
of his hand, as he hurried out of the room.
Thornycroft was one of those men with a
vein of tenderness in the midst of their
strength which always allies them more nearly
to women than, to men. Left alone with Mrs.
Morgan, he said wb’iit ho never would have
said to her husband; It was when she thanked
him, with earnest words, and sobs and tears of
joy yet more eloquent.
“ There was one, Mrs. Morgan, who loved
mo as well as you love John. You do uot heed
to thank me. All that I over could do for any
other woman I would do for her sake. You
have seen her: you know how fair and sweet
she was ; bull think no one save me knows all
her purity, her saint-like goodness. I have had
only one hope since she died, that I might he
fit'to go to her. "If I die in this good cause,
think of me as happy with an unspeakable hap
piness. It will but bo opening the golden gates
the sooner. I shall hot see you again, so 1 will
bid you good-bye now."
Her tears fell upon his hand, her lips touched
it. She whispered brokenly her blessing, the
blessing of one who owed to him more than
her own life; and so, annointed for his work,
as it; were, by those holy tears and'prayers, he
went away.
The girls at’ the door saw his face in, the
moonlight, while yetradiaut and fender. They
ran in to their mother asking their 1 childish
questions—
“ What made Mr. Thornycroft; look so ?
What was he here for ?"
“(Father is hot going away; Mr. Thorny
crofb is going iu his stead. We shall keep fa
ther! at home.”
And then woman-like, she fell to hugging
them and crying over them; and just then
John came back, and took the three all together
in his strong arms. ,
It was one of the supreme moments of life
which, whether of joy or grief, picture them
selves to our minds and need no description.
Ash Thornycroft walked away with a firm
tread. He turned aside when ,ha came to the
cbujch, with tbe old burying-ground in its rear,
full,of grass-grown mounds., He went in there
and knelt beside a grave on whose bead-stone
tbe name of Constance Ireton gleamed white
nndtclearly out in the moonlight.
“Oh/my darling, my darling!” he cried,
with bis lips pressed to the sod. If the dead
could hear, that still heart beneath should hare
throbbed again to tbe accents of such love.—'
Many a night had he talked; to her there, os
now r with a strange sense of nearness—a full
belief in the communion of their souls.
“You are not here, Iknow; and yet I know
you hear me. lam going away to-morrow,
God’s soldier and yonrs. Give me your bless
ing, Constance, and pray for me; you who have
already seen the Father’s face, that I may do
my work without faltering, and tho end may
come soon." I
It was but a dream of his own overwrought
fancy; hnthe seemed to see a cloud draw near,
from which a face looked—a white sweet face,
sad with waiting,, yet glorified' with immor
tal hope.. flo seemed to hepr a voice, which
said,, i'
“Go forth; my beloved, arid do .your work.
Soon will the struggle be over, and the reword
is long and sure.” j '
For an instant he eeemedjto see'the smile
upon her face, the look of faithful love in the
immortal eyes. Then when he stretched out
hfs arms toward it, the cloud seemed to melt
into the white moonlight; not even an echo of
the voice thrilled the September air—he was
alone >yith the night.
He went, away next day to join his regiment,
one of which had already, seen hard service.
There Whs in him the metal Jof a true soldier.
His day might be short—he would be’ busy
while it lasted. Besides, I think be liked his
grim work. He was always |to be found among
the volunteers for any desperate service. In
jnany a fierce charge he led: the van, with his
bright fair hair glittering gplilenly in the sun
light, and n blue gllst in his eyes. He was
never wounded. Nothing happened to disable
him from his duty. He bad refused well-earned
promotion, and once, when a true comrade who
inarched always at his side, had asked him the
reason why, he answered, j
“ Because ! shall be here so little while.”
“I thought you volunteered for three years.
I had heard that you came in place of a nine
mouths man, but that you chose to enlist for
the longer time and join aniold regiment."
There was no answer tojthe inquiring tone
which made a question of this remark, and
Steven Chase, who understood his comrade too
well to press the point, was ks much puzzled as
ever. • j
:Ho comprehended it all better the night be
fore Fredericksburg. They sat together on a
stone a little way from their tent. For a while
both had beep'thinking silently of what the
dawning was to bring. >
“It will be a tough fight,” Chase said, at
lofigth. 1 -
‘•You may well say so,” Ash Thoruycroft
answered. “It is a terrible responsibility to
assume, that of leading men to such certain
destruction ; and yet, if we can hut win the
victory 1 There is hardly a man but would be
willing to sell Ins life for that. It is the only
regret I have in going in, that .1 shall never
know which side conquers.
“ Nonsense, man, don’t get blue after seeing
as much blood spilt as you have, arid coming
but of so many hard bouts scathless!”
“It was not my time hitherto.* It is now.
I have had my call. But I’m not blue,-never
fear. I shall go.into that;fight more joyfully
than ever tired child went home. I have only
one wish. If you pull through alive take care
of my body. 1 want to be buried at-home, be
side a grave that was made last March, in the
Westville church-yard. You pinst send me to
my father —David Thoruycroft,- ’Westville, Con
necticut. Here it is written drown for you.
Papers that I left at home explaining my
wishes will bo sufficient fob the rest.”
His manner carried conviction with it, con
viction at least of his own faith in his forwarn-'
ing, but Steven Chase tried to shako it off.
“ I never knew a presentiment to come true
in my life,” he Said, sturdily, “ Yon will talk
over the battle *with me! twenty-four'hours
from now.” ,
Thornycroft only smiled, as he said,
“ Do you promise- what I asked, Steven Z
Will you send .my body (o my father if it is
within your power to protect it ?"
“ Yes: for your satisfaction I promise, I
shall not bid you good-bye, though.”
They were toiling Up the bill, that fatal af
ternoon of tho next day,- side by side, when
suddenly Thornycroft looked round with kind
ling eyes to his comrade. iHe stretched out his
hand with a smile which:the other will never
forget if be lives till his hair is white.
“ Good-bye, Steven!” '
The nej:t instant he fell heavily. A rebel
shot bad given him his mortal wound.
With exertions which (would seem half in
credible if 1 should relate them, Steven Chase
succeeded iu getting him off the field. lie was
not dead, and a hope still lurked in his true
comrade’s heart that he might yet live to tell at
homo the story of the war. He did not speak
or move, but faithful Steven could feel the
faint beating of bis heart;
lie did not die till after the troops had gone
back across the Rappahannock, lie belonged
to a division which went into the fight six
thousand strong, and went hack at night with
only fifteen hundred. lie lay there with the
wounded round him—the thin ranks out of
1 which so mauy brave feet had marched for
ever. Just at dawning hd looked up, and met
: his friend’s eyes. He fattered,. feebly, •
“A defeat, Steven! I lived to know—vic
tims, not conquerors.” Then his face bright
ened with a strange radihneo, and he whisper
; ed so softly that his friend could scarcely catch
: the words whispered Us to some invisible
! auditor. [
“Yes, my darling, yes!!”
The .next instant the faint heart-heat under
Steven Chase's had was sjtill.
They have buried-him, since then, beside
the grave where ho knelt in the moonlight the
night. before he went- aiiay. Only a, foot of
earth between the two who. loved each other so
dearly. Is there so mncli ? Surelyour dreams
of the future are not all in vain. Surely, some
where in the heaven which is “ anchored off
this world,” where sickness and sorrow.never
pome,, and there are neither wars qor rumors
of wars, somewhere in-that still Land of Peace
they are tasting the cup of joy which earth
denied them. ...
John ’Morgan, and JohiTSlorgSn’s wife and
children, will speak the name of Ash Thorny
croft all their lives with such reverent tender
ness as befits the memory of one who is en
shrined in their hearts as saint and as deliverer.
We know not yet for what good end he and
those who fell with him laid down their lives—
God grant that we may know hereafter—that
the seed sown in tears we may reap with ex
ceeding great joy.
sutlers from tijc
Prom Hammond’s Company. v
. Camp near Beli.e Plain, Va., 1
February 23, 1803. J
Fkiend Agitator: It will he seen that we.re
main in the same place.' It is now more than
two months since we came here and' built quar
ters, as we were instructed, for the winter.—
Col. Lyle, commanding out Brigade, is every
inch a soldier and gentleman ; and when we
settled in this little valley, he took the precau
tion to see that measures were adopted to make
us Comfortable for the winter, in case we should
remain here. This seemed to be uncertain;
but the facts, as they have occurred, have fully
vindicated the sense of his judgment, and- the
correctness of his forethought. We have the
warmest place, most convenient to wood and
water, and, with all, the most comfortable
quarters that I have seen. Unlike many of
our neighbors, who have to their wood,
some of them neatly a mile, we have wood so
near by-that three of a squad of ten can pro
provide enough in one-half hour for a whole
day and night. Then the cheerful’fire glows,
.andround its genial heat, and cheerful blaze,
we pass the .time in talking of the past,
in reading, and in various ways too commonly
■ mentioned to be of interest. We compare our
present with our past soldier experience, and
grow almost jubilant at the contrast. - How
often have we, when on, the march, risen at
the early reveille, sometimes long before it was
yet light, and after diligently searching, pet
haps,.for half an hour, for something to kindle
d fire, and. then hurrying off for water with
which to boil,a tin of coffee, cooked our morn
ing, raea! of the soldier’s unvarying, often
scanty faro, if su&cient time were allowed ;
and having partaken of it, have then buckled
ft n our heavy load, and set oat for a day’s
march 1. Then, at a halt during the day,
with- interval of rest uncertain, bow often
have we poured the coffee on the ground for
want of time to cool to a palatable degree
or perhaps, have seen it overturned by the
over-anxious hurry of some hungry compan
ion, as unconsciously he undermined the un
certain basis, and our “ tin,” capsized, lay
empty before us, who, with huge appetites, be
took 1 ourselves to the inevitable “hard tack,”
and a slice of strong bacon. This, perhaps, is
the darker side; and yet is only on paper, and
varies much from actual experience, in that no,
imagination can equal the solid fact. So we
are most, willing to hang the curtain of forget
fulness between the past and present, through
the indulgence of the times.
f Yet, we have our duties before ua even now;
the early morn is announced by the rattle of
tbs drum, and the shrill echoes of the fife,
when the soldier wakens, and hurries from his
warm bed, simply to let the over particular
superiors, who have such watchful care of
them, know that they are present—to hurry'on
their boots or shoes, button every other button,
and appear before the scrupulous Orderly, sim
ply to say, in answer to their names “ here,"
that they may be accounted present. Then
they gather up the embers of the fire of last
night’s vigils, and if they are so fortunate as
to have a remnant of yesterday’s wood, they
soon have a blazieg fire, if the chimney does
not obstinately refuse “io draw.” One is dis
patched for j water, which they catch near by,
as it runs from a gun barrel inserted intp the
hank of anl adjacent creek, where numerous
springs of jery good water arp, found; while
another swbeps up the earthos floor, with! a
broom madje, perhaps, ia an idle hour, of
either hickory or maple; and yot another sets
about preparing the morning meal. This con
sists of the Regular rations, with an occasional
issue of vegetables, and with what additions
they see fit io make, by purchasing what .may
here be badi at the rather exorbitant prices
which here jprevail. Thus: cheese at 40e.,
butter at 50e„ apples 50c. per dozen, soda
crackers at 250., cakes do., and many other
things at pribes ranging about the same.
Breakfast eaten, the streets and adjacent
grounds are “policed,” as it is here termed, by
a police guard, regularly detailed, or perhaps
appointed for being absent at rolloal). So
that; when tjhe~weather is fine, things'look
clean and neat about camp; and a healthy
atmosphere thereby prevails, which is of course,
very essential, Then, if the weather permits;
guard-mounting and company drill follow : 'the
former of which is quite an interesting formal
parade, the first few times it passes under one’s
observation. ißattalion drill and dress parade
consume mosf; of the afternoon. We never
have enjoyed imoch of an opportunity-to drill
in battalion ; | and yet so much diligence has
been'observed, that we can perform- the moat
essential evolutions with general success. Of
course the weather is such, moat of the.time,
that drilling is suspended. To-day there is a
body of snovlr a foot deep lying the
ground. Most of it fell the 20ih and 21st in
stants. It fasti beneath the vfrann "sun,
which shines <W to-day in splendor from the
clear, blue heavens. The snows ,we have had
here have uniformly melted away in a few
hours; and top of the soil, which is light
and sandy, soon dries off. We have had a few
nights, and ond or two cold days ; but wo shall
scarcely realize that another winter has passed,
even when the vernal showers have fallen, and
the bright summer-time is well upon us. Five
days ago we hai a heavy rain; then two days
of clear, bright weather intervened, during
wbieh time, by good fortune, we were on pick
et ; and now a deep snow .covers the ground,
which we expect will give place to mud in a
few hours. S[ eaking about picketing: The
first night' we vere out, at about 3 o'clock' we
were quite surprised to hear the sharp crack
of many rifles, in the line to the right and
front of the noiit where I was stationed, with
forty“mcn; which we bad reason to think
might result in something serious; fur it is
unusual and strictly prohibited.' Yet, I could
but think there inust, be some mistake .about
it; for we bad heard nothing from the cavalry
pickets in front, and could bat think.that it
was the result of timidity.. The firing con
tinued for some little time, but at length ceas
ed; whether.froin the it ant of or
the removal of the cause of fear, we knew not
at that time; but in the morning the former
inference was refuted, for they began, anew
and kept firing, at intervals, till they were-re
lieved. It proved to be the “new soldiers,” as
they are called, who-came down in .the Bock
tail Brigade;- hot I amasaured by Capt. Sufield,
of your place, (whom we had the pleasure to
meet a day or two since,) that the Backtabs
were not among them. So we had all our
trouble for nothing—no blood was spilt, unless
they chanced- to hit a rabbit, that tempted
them by crossing their beat. • , ;
We were agreeably surprised the evening
we returned from picket (21st) to see Treasu
rer Card, of our county. We bad a friendly
visit, and received from him a full account of
many things of local and, consequently, par
ticular interest to us. We had hoped to see
others of our friends from Tioga, but begin to
despair. A visit would pay well, for the time;
in what might be seen and heard. Calvin
Hammond made us quite a visit; so that, after
all, we have seen quite a number of Tiogans
during the winter. ,
Capt, Hammond, after suffering for months ’
from, protracted illness, and trying in vain to
get a leave, or resign, (as he believed he would
never be fit for the service again,) was lately
ordered to the Officers' Hospital at Georgetown.
We mies him very much, and were sorry tq
have him leave us; yet we knew that he wasr
growing wofre, and hoped he might get with*
out the limits, and free from the tyranny of
the army, where he night restore his health,'
and be among bis friends. Truly, a man may
about as well be dead, as sick in the army.
Respectfully, yours, Juo. I. Mitchell/. -
m so,
from Capt. Eofield'a Company.
from a Private Xetter.}
Camp near Belle Plain, Vm, if ■
February -21, 1863. J 1
Dear Brother ; You will see • by! the head
ing of .my letter that we have changed odr
locality sumoiJiat since my lost writing, and
have taken up our abode in that much talked
of land called “ Dixie.” -But before 1 attempt
to descrfbp the country where we are at pres
ent located, I will give you a harried sketch Cf
our trip and a glance at all our movements
since we received marching orders. : f 1
One week ago yesterday we Received orders to
report to our regiments head qgutters as soon ((S'
relieved. This, of course, sat us to conjectur
ing as to what was to be done with uo. As tbs'
Reserve 6orps was then at Alexandria, some
said that we were -to reinforce Hooker, others
that we were to_go into the new barracks that
were said to be a fitting up for car accommoda-
were relieved that very evening, and
the next afternoon we were ordered to remover
to oar new barracks. This seemed to please
all very well, although wo well knew that it
could be but for a thort time at the longest,'
as we were obliged to turn over all government'
property; and onr worthy Q< M. found storagh
for all private property we chose to leave.. Now
that we were in the barracks we might'stay a
week, perhaps a month—no-one knew how long
—bat about seven in the evening all .each con
jectures were scattered to the winds by an op-,
der to draw two days rations and cook thorn'
that night and be ready fora start.at six in-the
morning—“a thousand hands were busy then,”
in preparing their “ hard tack” and salt pork
fur a march. At four ip the morning, tfaje long
roll called all from their beds, and at eight the
regiment was formed and onr much beloved
Colonel gave the order to “forward march"
and we were off for tho wharf through the :
rain and mud where we embarked on ths
Louisiana, which had been sent up for ouc ac
commodation. At two fifteen in the afternoon
wo were under sail for some point in tho “ Sun
ny South” two know not where. We- had a
fine chanco’to see the surrounding country.—
Nothing remains but one desolate waste. Isay
all, but there' is one spot which met our vi«W
which seemed to have escaped, from the desola
ting tread of treason’s hosts. That spot was
the home of the illustrious Washington, Mount
' Vernon. I only regret that 1. did not get a
fairer view of those sacred grounds, that Mecca ■
of America. At eight in the evening we were -
anchored at Aquia creek, where we expected
to land-in the morning but were happily diaap- •
pointed, by finding as the day began to dawn
our boat again under sail. -**♦»**
At about two o’clock we were landed at Belle
Plain, with some three miles march before na
through the mud, hut as the old saying is
“ variety is the spice of life,” we all took it
good naturedly and soon were on our way re
joicing, over hills and through the mud. We
arrived at: what now proves to be our camp
groound, at about four o’clock, pretty well
tired and without a spot or place to lay our
heads. We all began to think that this must '
be the romance of tho thing, so we all went to
work to prepare for a night’s rest. Somedlxed
up a shelter with their blankets—others throw •
up a pile of brush and then threw themselves •
upon it, and sang out, “ who- would not be -
a Soger.f’ There was one thing however essen
tial to tho comfort of s soldier which we had
’'not received since' our landing, that is a hard
Cracker. Some of the boys went to the,Quar
termaster’s and procured a few of the requisite
and then pounced upon them asa thousand hun- -
gry wolves would upon a sheep fold. After hav
ing satisfied their hunger they repaired to their
brush heaps and blankets for the sight and
soon all was wrapped in the tender embrace of
marpheus. We awoke in the morning to find
five or six inches of snow. We had no tents -
and but two or three axes in the regiment and ■■,
the snbw still flying thick and fast around us. -
♦ * * * * * j_l will now give you a
short history of what bos transpired since we -
arrived here. At eleven o’clock Tuesday night :
we jeceived oidcrs for a detachment of 228 ■
men from our regiment for picket duty. There -
was a,detail from each company ordered to get -
two days rations of bard tack and forty to unde
of cartridges and be ready to start at six the
next morning- I was among the number and -■
will give you a description of our trip. At six,
in the morning we were ull ready for a start
and were soon on our way for Brigade head
quarters. On reaching them we were joined" •
by a detachment from the 150th and;.lslst P. •
V., which swelled our numbers t 0,360 mem—t
We were then put in charge of a field ofiicer
and marched to the picket line, a distanced 8 !
or 9 miles, through -mud, slush and rain, and
over the roughest .country l ever saw. I need
hot stop to say anything about the' mud as you .
have, often, heard of . Virginia mud, I peed ■
only say that it can not bo exaggerated. -I'l'he'
storm still kept pelting away at us although
we were made of iron and, could stand'': every- .
thing, toft we.wer9iObliged.to stand.it, and do.
our dutyj come what would. I did not bear a