The Verification • of • a • Dream. Narrated by D. W. WARE, Company H, 10th Vt. Vols. (Springfield, Mass.). HILE encamped in front of Petersburg we lay near Fort Fisher. I had three tentmates, Sergt. E. T. Johnson, Joseph A. Smith, and John Smith. John Smith was a quiet Irishman, with dry, humorous wit, the trio making a very pleasant set of mates, and many evenings have we passed in soldier life in pleasant converse together. Joseph had been home on a sick furlough, and while in hospital he became acquainted with a young lady, and perhaps was engaged when he returned to the front, which was but a few days previous to what I am about to relate. On the morning of the 25th of March, '65, our regiment, the 10th Vt., were detailed for picket. We had been on the picket line but a short time when Joe Smith came to me and said he had a dream that troubled him, and wished to relate it; so we sat down, and he said he dreamed we were going to advance the picket line; we should have a hard fight, and that he and John would be killed, but I should get through safe. I laughed at him and told him there was no indication of an engagement, and he must not trouble himself about dreams, but he continued and said he wanted I should pack his things and send them home, designating the disposition of the articles, particularly a ring he wore. While talking, what should we see but Colonel Damon coming through the main line on horseback, towards our line. Says Joe, "There, Dan, that is just as I dreamed." The colonel came down and told us we must take the rebel picket line in our front, but go no further; to pack up carefully so the rebs would not see us, and at a signal from Fort Fisher, charge the line. Joe was quite sad and told me to keep near him. We got the order to go, and started through an open field, had not gone more than twenty-five rods before the rebs opened on us and the first volley Joe fell, shot through the groin, severing the main artery. As I seized him the blood spurted all over me, and I could not stop it, the ball passing clear through him producing a wound that must soon end in death. He lingered a short time with his head resting in my arms, telling me to be sure to send his effects home as before requested. Meantime the troops not having started with our regiment, we were ordered back, but I remained out in the open field until Joe breathed his last-being safe from the enemy's fire while caring for a wounded comrade. I took the ring from the dead soldier's finger and made a lively retreat down the hill through a shower of bullets, to the right, into a swamp, thinking to get out of range. I found John Smith behind a stump all in a heap. Says I, “Why don't you fall back?” “In faith I'll wait until they come again and save so much travel." Just then five or six rebs fired at the sound of our voices; one ball cut my sleeve from my elbow to wrist, and one cut a furrow through the top of John's head, killing him almost instantly. The dream was verified. I was safe thus far. I fell back to the line, re-enforcements came to our aid and we again charged and captured the line with all the men as prisoners, which was held until the fall of Petersburg. On my return to camp we buried our comrades, and forwarded the articles as directed. First Recognition of Colored Troops as THE first official recognition of negro 24 First Hussar Regiment, Trenton, N. J. THE first Hussar regiment raised in the country for real service in the war was organized at Trenton, N. J., by Col. Andrew J. Morrison. SUMNER AND LINCOLN. SENATOR SUMNER was the first person to urge upon President Lincoln to make public the Confiscation Proclamation. Narrow Escape of a Traitor. A DRUM-HEAD COURT-MARTIAL THAT WAS HELD IN OLD LIBBY. F the six officers of the regular army who found themselves in Libby Prison in 1863-4, one was a fine looking colonel from Indianaa big bodied, big brained, big hearted fellow, chock-full of energy. He worked like a steam engine until he got out of Libby. Once he found his tunnel too small for his burly form; once he was checked at the outer end of it by two or three armed Confederate soldiers, who had been quietly waiting for him; again a clever ruse was detected just as he got to the middle of the gate, and so it went, until he had made half a dozen attempts. But he never gave up, and finally got out, and is now a prosperous citizen of Indianapolis, a trifle stouter than when he was in Libby, and a good deal richer, but otherwise unchanged. After two or three attempts to get out of Libby had failed, he began to suspect that his failures were the result of treachery in the prisoners' camp. Exchange, like kissing, went by favor. The colonel, after thinking each failure over, came to the conclusion that some poor devil was selling his manhood for a mess of pottage-currying the favor which would "exchange" him to his home. by betraying the plans of his companions in arms to the enemy. He looked about' him for the man. Cautious inquiries at length gave him such information as prompted him to say to each of the five other regular army officers: "Meet me at such a spot at midnight. I have found the traitor. We will court-martial him tonight." At midnight the six men met in a dark corner, and, in low, whispering voices, organized a drum-head court-martial. The colonel presented the name of the suspect, and then his proofs. In the ballot that followed, each of the six voted "guilty." "Now," said the colonel, "this is not a farce. We must vote a sentence, and to him, "what you have said is then we must execute it." all very well. It does credit to "Very well," said the next your heart as well as to your man. "Well," said the colo- head. But you're outvoted; nel, "I vote for death. The the majority are against you. wretch deserves it." "So do The sentence of the court is I," said the next, and so on that the scoundrel shall die, down to the sixth-a Pennsyl- and die he will this minute, for vania major. He knew the I'll kill him myself. Come, culprit a Pennsylvanian, like captain," he said to the brawny himself better than the rest. Irishman next to him, "you He knew that he was quite ca- and I will settle the rascal." pable of the crime charged "Why, you wouldn't strangle against him. He had no doubt him in his sleep, would you?" of his guilt. He wanted to see asked the major, also on his him punished. He said all this feet as the others started toto the other members of the ward the sleeping form of the court, and then he added: traitor. "But, you know, we are not a legal court-martial. We have no authority to act-certainly no authority to kill. We may sift the evidence presented against a man for our own satisfaction, but we cannot sentence, much less kill him. The most we can do is to prefer charges against him to the War Department. We can't kill him-" Suddenly interrupting himself, he said: "Colonel, what's that in your hand?" "The rope," said the colonel, grimly; "I've been plaiting it as we talked," and he passed it around. He had taken an old shirt, torn it into narrow strips, and woven it into something that looked like a rope. "Now, major," he said, when it was handed back Certainly," whispered the colonel, "why not? He can't pray, and we can't have any noise." "You never will," said the major, firmly, getting in front of the colonel; "I won't let you; you'll have to kill me first. I won't stand by and see you stain your honest hands with his dishonest blood in such a way as that. Why, man, it would be a murder. You would be a murderer. I won't permit it." Gliding softly before the rest, he reached the sleeping man and sat down beside his head. There he sat till the gray morning came stealing in through the chilly atmosphere. Long before that time the colonel and his companions, baffled and disgusted, had stolen away to their sleeping places, carry ing the plaited rope with them. As soon as the major could see the traitor's face in the dim light of the dawn, he waked him and told him all that had occurred. "Now, sir," he said, sternly, "I saved your life last night, although I believed you worthy of death. I won't do it again. I saved your life for my sake, not for yours. My advice is that as soon as the guard comes in for roll-call you get out of Libby, and as soon as you get to Washington get out of the army. If you're in the army when I get out I'll prefer charges against you, and if I meet you I'll kill you." THE EIGHTH KANSAS. CHAPLAIN J. PAULSON. NCE more we meet-but not as when With youth and hope we marched A thousand men we mustered then— Our banner flashed in waves of light, We tramped through many a weary mile. We tramped and fought, and fought and tramped, War's fierce tide surging to and fro, O'er mountain height and dismal swamp, Until the grand concluding blow. But now, by conflict torn and marred, Our flags hang on the silent wall, And we, gray-haired and battle-scarred, The struggles of the past recall. For suffering binds with links of steel The souls that death together braved, And hearts, with tender memories fill, For those whose blood the Nation saved. |