The central Georgian. (Sandersville, Ga.) 1847-1874, August 07, 1861, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextVOLUME XV. S ANDERS VILLE, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 7, 1861. NUMBER 32. J. M G. MEDLOCK, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. * " ['lie Central xiijtlGl an is published Vb- at l’«ro Dollars per annum, payable in adriuoe. Auy person sending FIVE NEW SUB SJ.UBEE3, accoinpauieii with the Cash, will he foraislied with a copy of the Georgian for one year FREE Ob' CHARGE. Remit,aaces by mail in re rialereil letters at our risk. The Georgian is the organ of the Planters’ Clan of Hancock, and will publish the proceedings of the regular monthly meetings of the Executive Com oitiee. It will also c mtaiu, each mouth, at least one original article from the peu of sonre member of the Club. djosoribers wishing the direction of their paper changed, will notify us from what office it is to be trait-slurred. y,) Vii.t d IE HUNTS conspicuously inserted at *, qq per square for the first insertion, and 50 cents pei square for each subsequent insertion. Those sent without a specification of the number of insertions, will be published until ordered out, and charged accordingly. Sales of Laud and Negroes, by Administrators. Executors, or Guardians, are required bylaw to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, be tween the hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the afternoon, at the Court-house in the county in which the property is situate. Notices of these sales must be given in a public gazette forty days nrevious to the lay of sale. F Notices for the sale of Personal Property must ba given at least ten days previous tolhe day of ^Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court ofOrdinary lor leave to sell Land or Negroes, must be published weekly for twomoxt.is. Citation- for Letters of Administration must be published thirty days—for Dismission from Ad ministration, MONTHLY SIX MONTHS—for Disntis- sion from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for For eel' 1 ure of Mortgage must be 011b- lished monthly for f»mr months—for establishing lost papers, for the full space of threemonths—for compelling titles from Executors or \dministrators where a bond has been given by the deceased, the full space of three months. Publication will alwavshe continued accorhng to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered Misfcllanfous. INHERITED WEALTH- ;R PARENTS. Timothy Chandler was five-and thirty years ot age, and he had a wife and four children. His oldest child was a boy, fourteen years old— for Tun had married young; while his youngest was a girl of six. Ilia wife was one of those busy, tidy, loving women, who s.tme I raised up by heaven to show to a degenerate age, how much the wile and mother can do toward making firesides heavens on earth. Tim was a cooper bv trade, and no man could h .ve asked for a belter business than he ha I it in his power to command. And Tun was one of those kind-hearied, generous, free-spoken, impulsive men, who can engage the love and esteem of their fellows. But Tim had faults. He had some very bail faults, lie was a discon tented mortal, and lie was a convivial mortal. lie envied those who p"S se.-sed more worldly wealth than tlid lie; and he spent a large portion ot his own effecis in the company of riot ous companions, in shoit, Tim was becoming intemperate. It was to be seen in the unsteadiness ol his step ; in the unnatural flush of his check ; and the dying light of his once clear, bright eye. And aias ! it was to be seen in lus once happy home; but unhappy now. It was lobe seen in the fading of the bloom upon Ins wife’s fair Cueek; in the tears that stole down her drooping lashes; in the sighs that broke from her heaving bosom; ami in the look of deep unrest that often dwelt upon the laces ot his elder clnl •dren. And it could be seen, too, in the foot-marks ol a desolation that was beginning to creep around the cottage. ‘Timothy,’ said bis wile; it was ear ly in tiie morning, before the children were up; ‘Joseph and William must have some warmer clothing. The ground is beginning to freezeand they suffer.’ _ ‘That’s Tim _ have to wait till 1 can make a raise. Confound it! why wasn’t I boi n as •ot/ier folks are born? Why wasn’t good luck in my star? Aliy wasn’t a fortune left to me by wealthy pa rents?’ The wife made no response. This was her husband’s envious hobby When lie felt the need of money he invariably found fault with bis fate. ‘Look at Stiles,’ he continued, g ow ing more bitter; ‘and look at Butler; and at Crane ; see how they live. They had money left to ’em. They in.li riled wealth from their parents. They don’t have to work, and dig, and be dunned for wh t they can’t afford. Curses on tins poor luck, I say !’ Hannah Chandler could not help speaking whatshe felt. Sue had heard this same complaint so often and had tried to cheer tier husband so much, that she felt like telling him the truth. ‘Timothy,’ she said in tiie kindest way but yet with firmness, ‘y : ou do wrong to talk so; you do wrong to allow your thoughts to fl >w in that di re> lion. Instead of looking at those who are pecuniarily better oil than you are. wliv not look upon those who ure worse t if. lustead of mourn.ng for what you cannot possess, why can i you think of what you might possess Jf you would?, ‘Well, vvliat mi»ht I possess?’ asked ’Tim, abl'ubily. ‘You irjjigLt possess enough. There is no mechanic'pi this town with a bet- :ter trade. Yob jnighit possess enough to m ike your home u happv and com fortable one, Q 3 yny husband, listen .t» me,’ she cried, with her fold'd hands upon her bosom. ‘You are making ns All very unhappy \ you are making us .all very miserable. Your children feci it. In the stieet they hear your name coupled with unholy things. They bow’their heads in shame; in a shame which, their father ’ Without allowing his wi r e to finish the sentence, Timoth y Chandler started from his chair, and seized his hat, and went out into the shed, where he bit sied liimselfin working up some odd bus of wood until the children were up, and breakfast was ready. And tins was the very way be always did. lie had not yet come to treating his wife with much harshness; but he would not listen to her when she spoke of his laults. When breakfast was over he went forth to his shop; but the words of his wife were not for gotten. He could not so easily put them from him. He could not hide from himself the fact that his children were suffering; but unfortunately, the presence of tnis fact did not lead him into a healthful state of mind. It made him fret, ami he straightw y laid it upon the shoulders of Sides, and Butler, and Crane, who had i ee.i born with fortunes. As time wore on Tim Chandler be came worse instead of better. His wife suffered more, and bis children suffered more; and he, too, suffered more. His shop was much of the time neglected, and his income was so small that he had noue for his home. His wife worked hard with her mop and her needle, while he spent a great part of his time at the village tavern. And as Hannah Chandler sat by her work-tal le during those long winter evenings, with her children crawling close to the fire to wann their’shiver- ing bodies, she prayed continually for her wayward husband. One night—or rather, one evening— Tim sat in the bar-oom of the tavern. He drank but little that day, for he had no money 7 , and he had tint yet fall en so 1 vv as to get trusted for his rum. His appetite for the exciting beverage was keenly active, and be was waitin'; for some of Ins friends to come in, in hopes that they would asked him to drink. He had a.-ked them so many times; lie had spent so much for rum for otliers, that he looked now for a return of the favor. Tiie bar-room u as of a moderate size, with a deep, broad fire place standing out from the wall, and in the recess beyond the chimney was a wood en bunk upon which the hostler slept durum the few hours of nignt. that he bad for rest. Upon this bunk was an old buffalo robe, and upon that buffalo robe was Tim reclining. As he thus ncliiied, two gentlemen, who had reached the inn at a late hour, and had had a supper ordered for themselves, entered and took their seats near the fire. They did not notice the man on the bunk, anil when the landlord went out, which he did snortlv after they came in, they evidently thought that tin y were the sole occupants of the place. ‘Webber,’ said one of the gentlemen, as a silence of some moments ensue-i between them, ‘before we went in to tea von asked me to drink.’ ‘Yes, Carleton —I did.’ ‘And I refused.’ ‘1 remember.’ ‘Well,’ said lie who had been called Carleton, ‘since you ask*-d me to drink with yon, and I refusi d, I feel mat 1 may tell you why I did su.’ Webber threw the stump of his cigar into the fiie, and then re marked— ‘Tell me by all means. I remember that we used to take a glass together belore you moved away from our town, though not often.’ ‘I never drank much,’ resumed Carleton: ‘and finally I quit it entire ly. I’ll tell you how it was. It was a very simple affair; but still, in our life we shall find that ,’s easier said than done,’ replied J' )lll,le V tlnou 0 h .ion , ,-i-i I,, circumstances, very trivial m them a rough, uneven way. I hey 11 , 8orilel ’ iines ' xert wonderful in- I fluences over us. My parents were i very poor, as you must remem er; but they lefi me with a gond education, and inany good lessons fur lile. As i grew up I longed to be rich. Close by me lived John B-yntun. He bad inherited great wealth from bis parents, and flourished in grand style. I en vied John Boynton. When I thought how easily lie came by his money, I was almost disheartened at iny own prospect.. And very < ften I found inyseif compla tiing because nr paients had ot left me smiietiii. g with which to make a start ill ihe world. I mar ried, and went into business; but the old complaint was upon me; I dream i d of Aladdin’s lamp, and <>f the magic ring, and spent halt my lime in wish ing that I had them; and during ah llns time I was in the habit of using intoxicating drink. I di(in,t dim.. much, though I often drank more than l UUellt. ‘W< II, one dav I picked up a p ip- r from my native town, and saw therein tin t John Boynton was dead. Aye— more than that; lie died po >r and Ge- graded, and his children were left en lirelv destitute. Tueir mother had died of a broken heart a year before. And tnis was tiie end of a man whom 1 had to envied. IIis wealth was all urine—lie was gone—and all that his children coud inherit from him wouid be shame and sorrow. ‘I went home and reflected. I saw my wife and chi dn-n sitting by the hearth, and 1 fancied that I could de tect, lines of soirow upon their faces. 1 walla d out inio the pale moonlight, and my houghis came down to a plain, practical is-ue. I asked myseif: sli shall those loved ones inherit any thing from their father which shall be of value to them in their ^reat work of life? And I said to myself: I mav not leave them money—f may not store up for them a hoard of material wealth ; hut I can leave them a father’s name unsullied; a father's honor un tarnished ; and a father’s life, after which they may copy with s detv. ‘I went back to my home, firmly re solved in my new course. I kissed mv wife and children ; and when I re tired, I prayed that God would give me strength. And from lhat moment I have riot, faltered. 1 casi away the cup and its association forever; I ceased to envy those who n.ight be richer than myself; and am now at work, with hand and heart and soul, to lav up for my children an inherit ance which cannot be lost to them by riy revulsion of earthly fortune. Now you know wh v I refused to drink with you. And surely you forgive me.’ ‘More, more than that.,’ cried Web ber, reaching forth his hand. ‘I for give you ; and I bless you for the les son. From this time forth I am with you. The last cup has been passed to mv lips ; the Iasi convivial hour is pass ed. Here, in this warm grasp, is my pledge!’ The host came in, and the two guests arose and left the room. In a little while Tim Cnandler glided down from the bunk, and moved toward the door. In the entry lie met a num ber of bis boon companions, who were just in for a time. ‘HTo! where now Tim? Come; join us. What’ll ye have? ‘Not now ; not now,’ replied Tim. ‘Then come-and take ag.n.~s.’ ‘No; not now.’ And with this Tim Cliand'er hur ried out of doors. Toe snow-track was hard and smooth, and tiie air was sharp and culling. But Tim noticed not the Cold. -He walked slowly, thoughtfully on, ever and anon mut tering to himself, with his head bowed, and bis bands clenched. Finally, when he had eoine wit.-in sigut of Ins own cotuige, he stopped, and spoke doud. He had been tlnnkuig deeply, calinlv, and solemnly, and bis decision had been arrived at with clear corn}) e- hension and firm put pose. ‘Tim Cliarnller ea leave his chil dren an inheritance!’ he said, wiih his feet planted firmly, his sweding breast thrown noblv out, and his head proud ly erect. These arms' are stout; this heart is strong; and this brain can be clear again. As God lives, and suffers me to live, my children shall nave an tnueriianee Which win not cause them to blush for the father who left it !’ Carleton made one convert that night, of whose existence, even, ill did not know. Timothy entered the house, and sat down bv the fire. Ilis wife was alone, and had been w eping. He dared no! speak then, but suffered her to retire with the weight of sorrow still upon her. And Hannah Chandler slept, and dreamed, anil did n it dream of the angel that had come to her home. In the morning Timothy was up first. When his wife came out he had a warm fire built, and the tea kettle on. She 1 oked into his face, and through the bur and the c’oud, came a light which bad been hidden, gleaming up on her like golden rays from t,he morn ing sun, penetrating to her Soul as did the old loveligbt in the years agom . While yet she stood, gazing upon him like one in a dream, he reached forth and took both her hands. ‘Hannah, said he, with a voice as strong and as firm as man ever spoke, and in tones as true and tender as were those which fell from his lips before the altar, ‘from this hour I begin io make an inheritance for my children. It may not be money—it. may not be materia! wealth; but, if I live, it shall be an inheritance which they shall not blush to own in the years to eoine. It shall be a father’s name unsullied ; a father’s name untarnished; a father’s example lliat may be safely followed ! Help me in the work, Hannah. Love me as you evei have; amt trust me as von would your own soul. And may God bless and keep 113 to'the end !’ And Hannah (lid help him? Oil! how she loved and cheered him—1> >vv she clung to him, and blessed him! how bright was the heaven of that home; now sweet the music of its an gel voicts! And Timothy Chandler went forth to carve out the inheritance for his children. His arm was strong, and so was Ins heart. Ilis soul was firm, and <0 *vvas his purpose. Th3 years crept on apace, and the frost of age was np •on his brow a* white as snow. Ilis. work was done, and he sat down in 1 he evening of life, by his Hannah's side, to rest and repose. He had carved out the inheritance, and he lived to s<-e his children, and his grand chil Iren’s did Iren enjoy it. As father ami as grandfather, he was tenderly loved and worshipped ; and as friend and eitiz -n he was honored and res petted ; while, as counsellor and £tiide lo the young and to the middle aged, none sto »d higher than dul he. Timothy Chandler had not been able to lay up much money for his children; but did he not give to them f.,r an inheritance something of far oreater worth—Something nearer the worth ot heaven ! A h—did he not. | He who minks tie can do without I others is mistaken ; he who thinks THE FLIGHT FROH MANA3SA.3. THRILLING ACCOUNTS^"NFEDERATE AND FEDERAL. We give below, from the many at hand, two accounts of th§ stampede of the Grand Army of the Federalists from the fatal field of Manassas. His tory reemds nothing to equal it: Correspondence Kieliraoud Enquirer. ****** On the retreat of the enemy they vvete followed by the Caroliniaus, Vir ginia cavalry,„ and Kemper’s b .ttery ; and when.in the vicinity of Centreviile, we succeeded in capturing thirty pie_ces of artillery, a large number of baggage wagons, containing provisions, the am bulance of General Scott, baskets of Champagne anu lemons, and quantities i f clothing, in some of which our boys are to day strutt 1 ng around as gay as peacocks. * * * * * * Every account—and there have been several—that readies this locality from Washingti n and Alexandria, confirms, the intelligence already com municated bv telegraph that the issue was not mutely a defeat, but a com plete rout- in the language of the Washington ‘Star,’ a ‘result never equalled in the history of modern warfare except at the B ;tt!e of Water loo.’ Tiie Federal army is tl orough- ly demoralized—its crack regiments whipped by one fourth their number, its men frightened, its batteries taken, and its Lest material left along the road, for miles, to be appropriated by every pas-er by. Between S one Bridge and Centreviile the scene pre sented is indescribable. Within a ins tance ot three miles, your c >rrespon- d'-ut saw scattere I overv article that could possibly enter inte the composi tion of a well equipped army—blank ets, shoes, haversacks, cartridge boxes, caps, knapsa dcs, equipments, muskets, canteens t>v the thousand, axes, medi cine chests, ‘grape shot, pereu-sion caps, powder boxes and even several hundred handcuffs, wnicb were in tended to be used up m their prison ers— when they got them. O ie of the most valuable captures was a batch «»f papers, specifications and drawings, evidently the property of a General offie -r, relating to the movements ot tue Federal army. Among other facts, it was stated the attacking force would consist of (ifiy-lline thousand, and the list of regiments engaged was enu merated. From other sources, it appears that Scott had so admirably planned his attack that not a thought of repulse was entertained. lie expecten ei inaren upon our leu wing turn it with ease, get in the rear of nur little army, and, with his over powering forces, su-round and cut us to pieces. Several letters, found upon the field and along tne line of retreat, state this laet in plain words. Olliers, which I have read, request ol distant correspondents after Sunday next to mail future communications to Manas- s s or Rich round as the case may be. The teams and wagons confused a id dismembered every corps. We were now cut off from the ad vance body by the enemy’s infantry, who had rushed on the slope just left by us, surrounded the guns and the sutler’s wagons, and were apparently pressing up against us. ‘It’s no use, Alexander,’ I said, ‘you must leave with the rest. Til be d—d if I will,’ was his sullen reply, and the splendid fellow rode back to make his way as best he could. Meantime I saw offi cers with leaves and eagles on their shoulder straps, Majors and Colonels, who had deserted their comrades, pass me gal'oping as if for dear life. No enemy pui sued just then; but I sup pose all were afraid that bis guns would be trained down the long, nar row avenue, and mow the retr uting thousands, and batter to pieces the ar jny wagons and everything else which crowded it. Only one field officer, so fur as my observation extended, seemed to have remembered his duty. Lieutenant Colonel Speiilel, a for eigner attached to a Connecticut Regi ment, strove against the current for a league. I positively declare that, with the two exceptions mentioned, all ef- foris made to check the panic before Centreviile was reached were confined to civilians. I saw a man in citizen’s dre.-s, who had thrown off his coat, seized a musket and was trying to ral lv the soldiers who came by at the point of the bayonet. In reply to a quest’on for his name, he said it was YVashburne, and I learned that lie was the member by Ihe name from Illi nois. The Hon. Mr. Kellogg made a similar effort. Both these Congress m -n bravely stoi d their ground till the last moment, and were serviceble at Centreviile in assisting the halt, there ultimately made. And other civilians did what they could. But what a scene-! and how terrific the onset of that tumultuous retreat! For three miles hosts of Federal troops—all detached from their Regi ments, all mingled in one disorderly rout were fleeing all along the road, but mostly through the lots on eith r side. Army wagons, sutlers teams and private earri iges chocked the pas sage, tumbhng against each o.iier, amid clouds of dust, and sickening sights and sounds. II teks c mtaini ig unlucky spectators of the late affray, were smashed like glass, and the occu pants wi-re lost-sight of in the debris Horses flying wildly from tiie battle field; many of them in death agony galloped at random forward, j -ining in the stampede. Those on foot who v,wmi.4 uaiuiJ tuum iuuc liiciii vMicuaoi\, as much to save themselves from being run over as to make quicker time. Wounded men lying along the banks—the few either left on th ■ fiel < or taken to the captured hospitals, ap pealed, with raised hands, to those who ro le horses, begging to be lifted behind-; but few regarded sueli pen lions. Then the artillery, such ; s was •Paved, caine thundering along, smash I have an inheritance to bequeath to I others can do without hinrisstill more my children? Wheu I at 11 g oae ) mistaken. The panic was so great that had it not been for tlnow.ng up the draw on the L >ng Budge, and anchoring the steamboats in tue stream, the entire army would have retreat d to ihe City of Washington, if not beyond. The rout continued all night ami a greater portion of Monday, the soldiers g dug in over the ft -Ids, ponds, and through the forest for a distance of te~n miles, bareheaded, barefooted, stripped of everything that would impede their progress, and so thoroughly frightened that the mere mention of the appiouch of our cavalry put them to their ut most speed. Had our whole army or a stronger detachment followed, there is not the least doubt that we might have entered the Capital itself. [Correspondence N. Y. florid.] ****** Th question was quickly to be de cided for us. A sudden swoop and a body of cavalry rushed down upon our columns near the bridge. Tney came from the woods on the left,and in fantry poured from behind them. Tyler and his staff, with the reserve, were. ap|*irentl_v cut olf by the quick 111a- cenuvre. I succeeded^ in gaming the position I had ju t left, there witnessed tne capture of Carlile’s battery in the plain, and saw another force ot cavalry and infantry pouring into the mad at the verv spot where the battle had commenced, and near which the South Cumli i ms, wl.o manned the battery silenced 111 the morning, had doubtless all day been I vin : concealed. The ambulances and wagons gradu ally advanced to this spot, and, of c iurse, an instantaneous confusion and dismay msuhtd. Our own infantry broke*ranks rn the field, plunged into the woods to avoid ihe road, and got up the lull as best they could, w.tiiout leaders, ev rv man saving himself in his own wav. Bv the time I reached the top of the hill, the retreat, the panic, the heed less, headlong confusion was now be yond a hope- I was near the rear ol the movement, with the brave Captain Alexander, who endeavored, bv the most gallant, but unavailable t x too is, to cheek the onward tumult. It was difficult to believe in the reality of our sudden reverse. ‘What does it all mean ?’ I asked of Alexander. ‘It means defeat.’ was his reply. ‘Weare b aten ; it is a shameful, a cowardlv retreat !’ ‘Hold up, men!’ lie shouted, ‘don’t be s eh infernal cowaids!’ and It • rode buckw. ids and forwards, plac ing his horse across the rotid, and vain- 1 iy trying to rally the running troops. mg and overpowering every thing. The legular cavalry, I record it to their shame, joined in the melee,adding to its terrors, for they rode down foot men without mercy. One of the great guns was overturned, and lay amiil the ruins of a caisson, as I passed it. I saw ah artilleryman running between the ponderous fire and after-wheels of its gun carriage, hanging on with both hands and vainly striving to jump up on die ordnance. The drivers were spurring tiie horses; he could not cling much longer, and a more ago nized expression never fixed the fea tures of a drowning man. The carriage bounded from the roughness of a steep hill leading to a creek; he lost his hold, fill, and in an instant, the great wheels hud crushed the life out of him. Wi o ever saw suclija flight ? Could the retreat at Borodino have exceeded it in confusion and tumult? I tlnnk not. It did not slack in the least un til Centreviile was r ached. There the sight of the reserve—Miles’ Brig ade—formed in order on the hill, seemed somewhat to reassure the van. But still the teams and foot soldiers pushed on passing the>r own camp and iieadmg swiftly for the d stant Po tomac, until for ten miles the road over which the gram I army had so lately passed southward, gay with un stained banners, flushed with surety of strength, was covered with the frag ments of its retreating force, shattered and panic stricken in a single day. From tne branch route the trains at laelied to Hauler’s Division had caught the contagion of the flight and | oured into its already swollen current an other turbid freshet of confusion and dismay. Who ever saw a more shameful abandonment of munitions gathered at such vast-expense ? The teamsters, many of them, cut the wagons. Oh- ers threw out. their loads to accelerate their flight, and grain, picks and shov els, and provisions of every kiud, lay trampled in the dust lor ieagues. Thou sands of mu.-k is strewed the route. When some of 11s succeeded in rally ing a body of fug’tives, and forming them into lines across the mad, hardly one but hid tl.ro vn away his arms. If the enemy ha I drought up his artiller ist-*, ami setv d t icm U| o i the retreat- i g train, or had intercepted our pro gress with five hundred of his cavalry, he might have captured enough sup plies fora week’s feast ol'th-iiksgivmg. As it was. enough was left behind 10 tell the story of 1 lie panic. Theroutof the Federal army was complete. What Old-Fusnioned Itifles Can Dat We commend to those who are always prating about “ improved arms,” the following account of what, o'd fashioned rifles can do, from an Englishman’s description of the battle of New Orleans: It was a strange sight—that long range of cotton bales —a new material for breastworks— with the crowd of Human beings be hind, their heads only visible above the lines of defence. v We co Id dis tinctly see theiV long rifles lying over the bales, and the battery of Gen. Coffee directly in front, with its great mouth gaping towards us, and the po- s i ion if Gen. Jackson, with his staff around li 1 in. But what attracted our attention most, was the figure of a tail man standing in the breastworks, dressed jn linsey-woolsey, with Luck skin leggings, and a broad brimed felt hat, that fell around his face, almost concealing his features. He was stand ing in one of those picturesque and graceful attitudes peculiar to those natural man-nvellers in the forest - Tiie body rested on the left leg, and swayed with a curved line upwards; the right arm was extended, the hand grasping the rifle ngar the muzzle, the but of which rested near the toe of his right foot, while with his hand he raised the rim of his hat from his eyes, and seemed gazing from beneath in tensely upon our advancing column. The cannon of Coffee had opened upon us, and tore through our ranks with dreadful slaughter; but we continued to advance, unwavering and cool, as it rn thing threatened our progress. The toar of cannon seemed to have no effect upon the figure standing on the cotton bales. At last lie moved, threw b ick the hat-run over the crown with his iefi hand, raised the rifle to his shoulder, and took aim at our group. Our eyes were rivetted on him. At whom had he levelled his piece? But the distance was so great tnat we looked at each other and -rniled. We saw the rifle flash, and mv right hand companion, as noble a looking fellow as ever rode at the head of a regiment, fell from bis saddle. The It-unter paused f >r a few moments, without moving bis gun from his shoulder, then re-loaded, and resumed bis former attitude. Throwing the bat rim over bis eyes, and again bold ing it up with his left hand, lie fixed Ins piercing eyes upon us, as if bunt ing 'out another vie iin. O.ice inure die hat-rim was thrown backhand the gun raised to i 1 is shoulder. Tnis tune we did not smile, but cast short glances, at each other, to see which of us must another of us dropped to the earth. There was something awful in thus marching on to certain death. Gen. Coffee’s battery and thousands of musket I a! s ul.ned upon our ranks. W\ cared not for them—there was a chance of escaping unscathed. Most of us bad waiked upon batteries a hundred tunes more destructive, without quail ing ; but to know that every lime that riff- was levelled towards us, and its bullet sprang from the barrel, one of us trust surely fall; to see the gleaming sun flash a* the deadly iron came down, and see it rest motionless, as if poised upon a rock, and know when the ham iner struck, ami the sparks flew to the full-primed pan, that the messenger of death drove unerring to its goal—to know this, and still march on, was aw ful. I could see nothing but the tall figure standingon the breastwork. He seem ed to grow, phantom like taller and taller, assuming through tiie smoke the supernatural appearance of some great spirit. Again did he reload and dis charge his rifle with the same unfail ing aim, and it was with indescribable pleasure that I beheld, as we neared the American lines the sulphurous smoke gather around us and shut that spectral hunter from my gaze. We lost the battle, and to my mind the Kentucky rifleman contributed more to our defeat than anything else; for while he remained to our sight, our attention was drawn from our.duties, anil when at last we became enshrouded in the smoke, the work was conpiete; we were in titter confusion and unabie in the extremity to restore order suffi cient to make any successful attack. So long as thousands and thousands of rifles remain in the bands of the peo- p e, so iong as men come up from their e il Itiond able, ere the down is on their c i 1, to hi 7 - the centre of a mark or to str.ke.the deer : t one hundred and fifty vards in the most vital part; so lo g as there is a great proportion of tne R-public who live as free as the wild Indian, knowing no other leader but their own Indian chiel, knowing no law but that of right, arid the hon orable observance of friendly inter course. America is unconquerable, and all the artnies'of the world though 1 hev might drive them from the sea coast and across the Alleghany mount ains, would not be able to subdue the free souled hunter among the mount ains, and great prairies, and mighty rivers of the W>-st. Facetious War News.—Our New Yoik c.itv contemporaries are in the habit of making most facetious reports of our reverses in war. When our army is rej ulsed and beaten one says, “our boys rapidly retreated,” and another has it that ‘‘our boys made a most brilliant retreat,” and still another has it that ‘our forces immediately retreated and the rebels suffered a terrible loss.’ If we slaughter at this rate when wc r> treat, the Lord hav.e mercy on the “rebels” wlnii we don’t retreat.—A T . IT. Day Book. I A Riddled Flag.—A gentleman I who has just returned from Manassas, i informs us that lie saw the colors of the •Seventh Georgia Regiment the day | after the great battle. He says the j flag had fourteen h diet holes through it, and that the flag staff had been struck in four different places. The immortal B irtow was leading the regiment with this flag in his hand at the time he fell, the color-bearer having been wounded. A Virginian, who had been separated from his regiment, asked permission to bear the flag, which was granted, and with his own hands, assisted by one of the color guard, he planted it upon Sherman’s battery, (commanded . by Ricketts.) The first fl ig that was waved over that funous battery. Other regiments came up at the same time, however, and are equally entitled to participate in the honor of taking the battery.— Richmond Dispatch. Abolition Congressmen in Bat tle.—A corespondent of the New York Daily Times has the following: ‘Congress adjourned Friday until Monday, expressly to allow the mem bers to see the show. Neither Con gress nor the Union wish to see another such a sight. At the grand stampede civilians were awfully scared, and I think several of them were takeffpris- oners. I witnessed some terrific feats of running among them. Many lost their carriages, and for aught I know are skulking about the woods now. One very fat Congress man offered an artilleryman §20 for a horse ; but after he had the horse he found it so hard to mount that he timed pule all ove~. He John Gil- pined along, near my legs, until his horse threw him, when his agony was fearful. Three of us hoisted him up, and he cut again as though the d—l \vas after him. That M. C. will never go to the wars again.’ Handcuffs for the South.—The Richmond Dispatch truly says that the Southern press should keep before the people of the South and of the world the astounding and unparalleled fact that the army which invaded Virginia brought with them thirty thousand handcuffs, which were taken with the otiier spoils from the enemy I This surpasses all that we have ever heard of Russian or Austrian despotism. It is almost imoossible to realize that, in the Unit d States, boasting itself as the freest and the most civilized of nations, the most deliberate, inhuman and atrocious plans should have been people 1 ofV?i’i3SY]fef^1iH^ , F^c3r^m this or any other age. Who ever heard, even in despotic Europe, of an invading army travelling with thirty thousand handcuffs as a part of its equipments ! True Courtesy, or politeness, is the offspring ofa good heart, a kind nature, a benevolent spirit. It. is as far re moved from the artificial stateliness of fops and coxcombs as is the flower made of wax from nature’s own pro ducts. It is as remote from swagger, bluster, and arrogance, as the centre of tue globe is from its circumference. A true gentleman is a true man, no matter who his father was. To be a true lady or a true gentleman, does not depend upon the tailor, the mantua- muker or the milliner. These useful people, to be sure, manufacture a great many things that pass for ladies and gentlemen, but we are speaking of the true coin, and not the spurions, the counterfeit. One tiling is certain, it is no mar-k of a true getleman to live without work. Capture of a Federal Regiment. —An Indiana Regiment, 700 strong, has fallen into the hands of our cavalry at Falls Church, about 9 miles from Alexandria, and three from the forti fications at Arlington. The_ remnaut was in the battle of Manassas, and had suffered heavily. Being unac quainted with the country, these men got lost during the retreat, and he wandered about until Friday morning, when they arrived at Falls Church en tirely exhausted. The fact becoming known to our scouts, a message was despatched to Manassas, and a detach ment was soon on the way. The result was the capture of the entire body, with all their arms. The prisoners were expected in Richmond last night. The Captured Wagons.—The wagon- captured by our Army on Sun day—over 500 in number—are said bv a correspondent to be all new, and. of the most substantial and costly de scription. They were built at Balti more, Philadelphia, New York and. Boston, and are supposed to have cost about $500 each. They much resem ble the large size wagons used by the Adams Express Comp; ny but are cov ered. On each wagon was marked "To Richmond,” and in each onewasa large quantity of provisions. All accounts agree in representing the spoils to be immense at the battle on the 21st. Among the items not previout'ly mentioned, are 600 tents, and 7,0d0 axes. Mv deceased uncle, says a humorous writer, was the most polite gentleman in the world. He was making a voy-. age on the Danube, and the boat sunk: all the passengers went to the bottom. My uncle was just at the point of drown in-_r. He got his head above water for- once, took off his hat, and said : “La-- dies and gentlemen, y^u must pleasa excuse me!” and down he went,

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The central Georgian. (Sandersville, Ga.) 1847-1874, August 07, 1861, Image 1