BARBARA FRIETCHIE. BY J. G. WHITTIER. from the meadows rich with Quick as it fell, from the broken staff corn, Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf; Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand, On that pleasant morn of the early fall, When Lee marched over the mountain wall; Over the mountains, winding down, Forty flags with their silver stars, Bravest of all in Frederick town, In her attic window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet. Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced-the old flag met his sight. "Halt! the dust-brown ranks stood fast; "Fire!" outblazed the rifle blast. It shivered the window, pane and sash, It rent the banner with seam and gash. She leaned far out on the window sill, And shook it forth with a royal will. "Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag!" she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came. The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and word. "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!" he said. All day long thro' Frederick street All day long that free flag tossed Ever its torn folds rose and fell And through the hill gaps, sunset light Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, more. Honor to her! and let a tear Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, Peace, and order, and beauty draw T 3.30 A. M., the 18th of June, 1864, the 27th Mass. Regt., now numbering 199 men, was aroused from its bivouac before Petersburg, Va., and, partaking of scanty rations, fell into line, and waited until 9 A. M., before ordered to advance. The first line of rebel works was found deserted. The 27th then halted upon a knoll in the rear of the residence of Colonel Pace, known as "Greencroft," and were ordered not to leave the line and to be ready to move at a moment's notice. Soon after noon Steadman's brigade made a gallant but unsuccessful assault upon their front, and at 2 P. M. Lieut. James H. Fowler of Co. F, acting aide to General Stannard, brought orders for the 27th Mass. and 55th Penn. to charge, with the understanding that when reaching Steadman's position, his brigade would rally and rejoin in the assault. The ground declined before us until reaching a sharp knoll; upon the crest of this was a Virginia fence, from which the ground again descended. Beyond this was a field of growing oats, about ready to head, and then the enemy's works, the entire distance being about five hundred yards from our position. At the word of command the 27th Mass. sprang forward at trail arms, double-quicked up the abrupt ascent, scaled the fence and rushed down toward the field of oats. At the moment of reaching the fence, the enemy opened a rapid and murderous fire. Still the order was "Forward!" and, moved by an irresistible impulse and an unswerving courage, the column pressed forward into the grain, our course trailing with the forms of dead and mangled comrades. Onward, till every officer was wounded but Lieutenant Jillson, and he endeavoring to aid Lieutenant Cooley from the field. Onward, under sergeants, until these too had been largely slain. Volley after volley at close range swept the line in quick succession, cutting great gaps in the column. We passed the position where Steadman's brigade lay, but we passed them but a short distance only before a sweeping blast brought our line to the ground like reeds before a tempest. It was well that the oats offered friendly shelter, for this in part protected us from the direct fire of the enemy. Endurance, valor, and courage had been taxed to their utmost, but in vain. It was the work of a few moments, but our repulse was complete. Captain Moore had been wounded soon after passing the fence. Capt. William McKay was wounded in the side, Lieut. S. P. Cooley received a severe wound in the side, and Lieutenant Jillson was urging him to go to the rear. "You are the only officer left," said Cooley, "and I will not leave you, Jillson." At that moment Lieutenant Cooley received a severe wound in the shoulder also, and fell into Jillson's arms and was borne off the field. The lifeless bodies of Sergeants Brewer, Meacham, and Colwell, with Corporals Eggleston and Oaks and many others marked the line of our perilous advance. The two Brewer brothers of Granville lay near each other in the embrace of death, having fallen within a few seconds of each other. Bolio, Dunakin, and Prior, of Co. D, were lying near by. The enemy poured their shot around us, and we seemed in danger of extinction. A furrow through the field served as a partial protection from the iron storm, and bayonets and cups were briskly used to draw the earth from under us and place it upon the exposed side. Others as at Cold Harbor sought shelter behind slain comrades and strengthened the human breastworks by throwing dirt against the bodies. It seemed as if the sun was standing still a second time, and this time for the benefit of the Amorites. Napoleon at Waterloo never longed for night to come more than these battle-staid soldiers on that fatal field. To advance was death or capture; to retreat would double the loss already sustained. The waving grain in part shielded us from the enemy's eye, but it also prevented the air from reaching us, so that we almost broiled under the rays of the sun. As darkness settled upon the field the living and wounded worked their way back as best they could. Sergeant-Major Tryon was severely wounded in the leg. He refused assistance because it would expose those aiding him and because others might be more in need of aid. He crept back dragging his limp and helpless limb. Sergeant Everton had a musket ball pass completely through him from side to side, making a wound almost identical to that received later by President Garfield. He checked the flow of blood until dark, and then with his gun for a crutch hobbled to our lines. The next morning Sergeant Peck presented General Stannard the morning report-with a list of the killed and wounded of the previous day-signed by himself. Where are your com missioned officers?" asked General Stannard. A look in the hospital would have answered the question. A NOVEL SABER. AMONG the relics of the late war, saber as one that had been used by stowed away in the United States Ordnance Museum on Seventeenth street, is a saber, fully five feet long, which was found on the battle field of Manassas. This formidable looking weapon was evidently made in some village blacksmith's shop from the fabled ploughshare at the outbreak of the war, and its handle appears to have been carved with a jack-knife from a cow's horn. A Virginian who visited the museum last week recognized the a giant Virginia cavalryman in “Jeb” Stuart's command. |