Mexico and Richmond

Abraham Lincoln once asked General Scott the question: “Why is it that you were once able to take the City of Mexico in three months with five thousand men, and we have been unable to take Richmond with one hundred thousand men?” “I will tell you,” said General Scott. “The men who took us into the City of Mexico then are the same men who are keeping us out of Richmond now.”

Without Any Exception

But, after all, this ruffianism was really not a whit worse in its effects on the national character than was the case with certain of the “universal peace” and “non-resistance” developments in the Northeastern States; in fact, it was more healthy. A class of professional non-combatants is as hurtful to the real, healthy growth of […]

An Ideal Man

A few words of explanation seem necessary. I was a sophomore at Washington College during the session of 1860-61. On the breaking out of hostilities at Charleston in the spring, or, rather, when the secession of Virginia became inevitable, the college was converted into a military school and the students, with some of the professors, […]

In All Its Beauty

The great Valley of Virginia was before us in all its beauty. Fields of wheat spread far and wide, interspersed with woodlands, bright in their robes of tender green. Wherever appropriate sites existed, quaint old mills, with turning wheels, were busily grinding the previous year’s harvest; and grove and eminence showed comfortable homesteads. The soft […]

Difference of Spirit

During my voyage home in the China, I had an opportunity of discussing with many intelligent Northern gentlemen all that I had seen in my Southern travels. We did so in a very amicable spirit, and I think they rendered justice to my wish to explain to them without exaggeration the state of feeling amongst […]

Watchword

Give him my affectionate regards, and tell him to make haste and get well, and come back to me as soon as he can. He has lost his left arm, but I have lost my right. GENERAL ORDERS, HDQRS. ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA, No. 61. May 11, 1863. With deep grief, the commanding general announces […]

Never a Desponding Word

I am now about to leave the Southern States, after traveling quite alone throughout their entire length and breadth, including Texas and the trans-Mississippi country, for nearly three months and a half, during which time I have been thrown amongst all classes of the population–the highest and lowest, and the most lawless. Although many were […]

Liberators

I saw a most laughable spectacle this afternoon– viz., a negro, dressed in full Yankee uniform, with a rifle at full cock, leading along a barefooted white man, with whom he evidently changed clothes. General Longstreet stopped the pair, and asked the black man what it meant. He replied, “The two soldiers in charge of […]

Never Had Mother a Nobler Son

On a quiet autumn morning, in the land which he loved so well, and, as he held, served so faithfully, the spirit of Robert Edward Lee left the clay which it had so much ennobled, and traveled out of this world into the great and mysterious land. The expressions of regret which sprang from the few who surrounded the bedside of the dying soldier and Christian, on yesterday, will be swelled to-day into one mighty voice of sorrow, resounding throughout our country, and extending over all parts of […]

Doomed Line, Square, and Column!

SONG FOR THE IRISH BRIGADE. Oh, not now for songs of a nation’s wrongs, not the groans of starving labor; Let the rifle ring and the bullet sing to the clash of the flashing sabre! There are Irish ranks on the tented banks of Columbia’s guarded ocean; And an iron clank from flank to flank tells […]

Wherever It Led Us

THE BANNER OF BARS. BY T. C. HARBAUGH. I see it to-day as it waved in its splendor Where the Rapidan slips with a song to the sea; I catch the bright gleams of the stars that adorned it When gayly I followed the fortunes of Lee; How proudly it waved in the breezes of heaven And opened […]

It Ne’er May Fall Again

THE PORTSMOUTH MEMORIAL POEM.–THE FUTURE HISTORIAN. James Barron Hope. Oh the women of Old Portsmouth in their patience were sublime, As in working and in praying they abided GOD’s own time! Marble saints in a stately Minster, in some land across the sea, In a flood of Winter moonlight were not half so pure to […]