Newspaper Page Text
8
slie past (bausc.
{For tho Banner of the Bouth.]
Lines Written on Hearing a Dis
tant Bugle, June 20. 1866.
ISY MAJOR NED HARCOTJRT, C. 8. A.
Sound thy sweet bugle once again
And through the wild-wood let it thrill,
Although it wrings my heart with pain,
l would not bid its notes be still.
Sweet memories of bygone hours
Come thronging as it’s tones I hear
When life’s brief path was strewed with flowers,
And we bad all man holds most dear.
Tho boys were dressed then in the grey.
And with high hopes their bravo hearts beat
And we were merry then and gay,
For ah! we dreamed not of defeat.
Freedom had gathered thirteen stars,
Soft blue from out tho sky slio rent.
Caught from the rainbow crimson bars
That with the stars and blue were blent.
Then gave the banner to our trust
And bade us to the conflict go,
N ever to trail it in the dust
Nor yield oua fair star to the foe.
Full many a time the vandals broke
Before its charge, like WTeatha of air
Virginia’s hills with thunders woke
And oclioedback the Southern cheer.
On. ou wo charged o’e.r mountains steep,
Not heeding that our shoes were worn
Across the rivers dark and deep,
Our feet all bleeding, swelled, and torn.
And only rested 'neath the shade
When shouts of triumph floated back
From “Stonewall’s” glorious old Brigade
That followed hard upon their track.
That sound to soldier’s hearts so dear,
Hearald of victory bravely won
When Jackson fell upon their rear ;
Ah! then wo knew the work was done.
Then from our haversacks we drew
Our rations scant, perchance a crust,
An ounce or more of beef so blue,
Half raw' and covered o’er with dust.
And in low tones the boys would tell
Os how some gallant comrades met
Their fate so stern and dying fell
Bong ere the burning sun had set.
They fell, but many a glorious name
Was there inscribed ou history’s scroll.
Caught from oblivion's depth by fame
.And registered on “honors roll."
But time wore on, I may not dwell
On the bright pages of the past,
Os darker scenes I now must tell.
Our days of triumph did not last.
Disease and want held revels rare.
Hunger and cold did well their parts ,
You could not last poor comrades dear ;
With wasted frames and breakiug hearts.
We had hurled them back for four long years,
Struggling against their countless host;
Then came a change, aud now iu tears
We mourn our cause as almost lost.
On Appomattax falal plain
From out our flag were torn the stars ;
The blue crept back to heaven again ;
The rainbow claimed its blood stained bars.
Oh! who can ere forget that hour,
In the long lapse of coming years ;
Men tho’ we were, we had no power
To stay our sobs and bitter tears.
Hut tho’ our cherished hopes have fled ;
And tho’ in claims the Southland weeps :
< )ur cause is not forever dead.
Twill rise again, it only sleep*.
And when that glorious day shall come
When bugles echo wild and clear
When with the long roll peals the drum
Beneath the “Southern cross” so dear.
Then we will gather comrades brave ;
The avenging sword we'll then unsheath
And make tho South a mighty grave
t >r crown her with the laurel wreath!
For the Banner ot tho South.
BRILLIANT AC 1 - IEYEMENT,
BV M’NEIL’SPARTISAN RANCERS.
Capture, of Major Generals Kelly and
Crook , U. S. A , at Cumberland ,
Md. } Ft by. 22d, } 1866.
BY OSWALD.
Great battles, fought by immense
armies, force the attention and scrutiny of
the world towards them, and, however
stupidly conducted, are the pets upon
which history bestows its admiration. A
distinguished man dies, and, forthwith,
all the writers and poets in the land
commence to sing praises over the dead.
The rarest heroisms of life, performed by
the noblest, of men, seldom claim much
attention from the press. The public
thirst for excitement must be satiated,
and, as our American world goes now,
with large draughts, the quality being a
secondary or forgotten consideration.
Oecasionlly, however, a few gallant
spiiits loom up beiore us, in deeds of
valor, so splendidly and daringly accom
plished, that we instinctively turn to
read of and admire them; and we recol
lect of no incident that occurred during
the four fearless years in which we wore
the grey, that comes to us with brighter
memories than the one we now relate. It
is sketched exactly as it occurred:
“Old McNeill,’’ as he was familiarly
called, the first commander of the troop
which afterwards bore his name, though
a native of Hardy county, Virginia,
had, for years previous to the war, re
sided in Missouri, where, upon the com
mencement of hostilities, in 1861, he or
ganized a company of mounted riflemen,
and at Carthage and Lexiugtou did good
service in bonal! of his adopted Biute
In his \V estoru career, he was singularly
unfortunate, having Inst his eldest son,
who was killed on picket duty early in
the war, and himself having been, with
another son, Jesse, captured and con
fined in the military prisons of Alton
and St. Louie. They, however, effected
an early escape, and reached the Confed
erate lines in safety.
Having obtained authority at Rich
mond in 1862, he set about raising an
independent company of Partisan Ran
gers, and in a very short space of time
was in command of as gallant a band as
“ever drew blade in fight.” It was com
posed mainly of Virginians and Mary
landers, but from nearly every Southern
State a representative might be found in
the ranks.
The daring achievements of these
Border Rangers soon made them famous
as a terror and a scourge to the enemy;
aud, as the acknowledged champion of
the Western border of Virginia, they be
came endeared to the hearts of the peo
ple whom they endeavored so zealously
to defend In this Western section of
the State, the counties of Hardy and
Hampshire, hemmed in by high moun
tains, which surround it like a grand am
phitheatre, lies the beautiful and fertile
valley of Moorefield, watered by the South
branch of the Potomac and its tribu
taries. Here dwell an independent, hos
pitable race, who never, in the darkest
hours of trial and danger, swe« ved from
their allegiance to the “Old Dominion,”
and, through hr, to the Confederacy
Among them, during tho greater part of
the war, the Rangers camped, men and
horses being sustained upon the abun
dance of their rich estates, while the
wild fastnesses of the mountains near by
afforded a secure retreat when the over
powering numbers of the enemy render
ed resistanc vain.
Beyond this valley, and above the
narrow gap through which the river
flows, lies another valley, smaller in ex
tent and near its centre is the little
village of Petersburg. At the time of
which I write, “grim visaged war” had
lelt its indelible trace. The deserted
fort that sat like a forgotten grave upon
the hill, the remains of destroyed fencing,
the mutilated houses, the blackened ruins
of a temple ded cated to God, all speech
lessly bore testimony of the ruin and
wrong that ever accompanied the inarch
of the hired hosts of despotic power.
It was early in February, 1865, that,
out in the bitter wind, by a dwelling on
the hill North of the village, a solitary
picket was walking to and fro, seeming
ly forgetful of tho elemental strife around
him. Silently pacing his beat, he watch
ed every avenue ol approach, never
turning aside but to east his eye upon his
faithful steed fastened close by For
miles to the North and West a fine view
was had of the roads leading to the ene
my’s linos, until they disappeared in the
distant ridges, while to the South, below
the village, across the river, beyond fer
tile farms and fine mansions, might be
seen the smoke arising from amongst the
hills, where the Rangers of McNeill and
the heroes of Newmarket, a company of
veteran Missourians under Woodson,
were encamped. “Mountains upon moun
tains piled.” formed a grim back-ground
to the picture from any point.
In spite of the piercing cold, as he
paced the snowy beat, the sentinel would
relapse ever mid anon into reverie;
memory was busy amid the past, the
happy scenes of a careless childhood
linking themselves to others came throng
ing up, up to the strange and tragical ad
ventures of the soldier man. Again, he
charges with the fearlcs .Whby through
the Valley, participates iu the wondrous
marches of Jackson, and the grand
campaigns of Lee. His face grows
bright and his eyes flash as he faucius tho
shouts of victory, heard on so many but
- when, with his companions ol
the past, he wielded tho -word ami
hazarded all for freedom. .But anon, a
sadness spreads over i- features, and
his eyes beam with a mellowed light, as
he thinks of the exhau- * and state of tic*
army and the enervated r uuiilion ol his
suffering country; and 1! -iting up before
his vision, come the dentil scenes of com
rades lost, but loved so well. lie sees
again, the rocky pass and the old mill in
which Lops, the model soldier, breathed
his last, his brave young commander,
Shcetz, foil dead from his plunging
charger, and almost feels the fatal bui let
that struck down the gallant Harrison,
while riding by his side; the chieftain,
too, whose fortunes he had latterly fol
lowed, whos name was a household word,
and the fame of whose daring resounded
throughout the land, the restless, uutir
ing McNeill, who had fallen, and whose
spirit had “crossed the river to rest in the
shade ol' the trees.” Moistened by the
blood of bis comrades the very ground
upon which he treads is sacred. There,
to the East, is the gap where the intrepid
Rosser fell, wiiilst singly charging the
flying foe ; but a short distance below,
and ou the same road, the puie minded, 1
MHBSa OF sis s©ra,
gentle Miles, shed his blood and died, as
he bad lived, a patriot and a Christian.
On tho ridge below, one of Maryland’s
gallant sons, bis family’s pride, the
courteous, high-toned Clary, fell mortally
wounded, and met his fate with a soldier’s
resignation. Seymour, another brave
and trusty Ranger, down by the side of
the murmuring river had died, not as lie
had wished, “with his back to the field
and his feet to the foe,” but; wrestling in
the embrace of a malignant fever con
tracted while ou duty; and there, across
the river, is the scene of that furious
fray in which fell the pride of the Ranger
band, the faithful friend and intrepid
leader, the generous, noble-hearted Do
lan.
Peace be with you, departed heroes!
No braver spirits e’er marched to battle
aud death; no beans of truer, more
knightly mould e’er grasped tho glitter
ing sword, or battled for a more righteous
cause.
With the hour for relief came a com
rade, bringing, also, an order with a re
quest to report at once to Lieut. Jesse
McNeil, who, since his father’s death,
had been in command of the company.
Fay, for such was the name es the picket,
immediately complied, and found his
commander at the house of a frieno,
where he had been confined for some
time by a severe sprain, occasioned by
a fall from his horse during the holidays
A few trusty soldiers were in the room,
who formed a little council of war. After
a few commonplace remarks, young Me-
Nftl remarked, addressing himself to the
picket, J—B—F—who was one of his
father’s favorite scouts: “You remember
last year, when you returned from Mary
land, and wanted Pa to make a raid mi
Cumberland and capture General Kelly?”
“Ye>,” replied F ; 'and I think it can
be done yet, Jesse.”
“Well,” said the officer; that’s just
what I want to know ; L believe I’ll try
it, by gum! I’ll have to do something;
old Early seems determined to give
someone else the command of this com
pany. The Yanks rid us of Harry Gil
mer, but Early aint satisfy and yet, and I
reckon he’ll send another of his pets to
take charge of us before long. If we
could only capture the Generals, 1 don’t
think we’d be i .terferod with any longer.
Crook and Kelly are both in Cumber
land now, you know; ea-a an’t you go
down there and find out what can be done
aud let me kn >\v at once ?”
“Certainly, 1 can!” was the response.
“Well.” continued McNeil; “while
you’re gone I’ll get the men ready and
have the horses shod and roughed, How
many men do you think we will require ?”
“About twenty-five, well mounted, will
be enough,” was t ie reply.
“All right. Now we’ll have to keep
this affair very secret, for if it should
happen to leak out, we might all be
caught in a trap. By the way! you’ll
want someone to accompany you; here’s
Gassmau; what do you say, Jacob? will
you go ?” said the Limit., addressing a
wounded soldier, of Rosser’s Brigade,
who was present, but now nearly well.
“I would like to go, indeed, Lieut., re
plied G—, but I’m afraid I would not be
able to stand the ride ; I’ll be ready to go on
the expedition however, on F—’s report.”
“Here’s Haller.” said F—, the best
boy in the army. I’ll take him along.
Won’t you go, Pensc ?”
“Yes,’’ quickly responded Haller, a
bright boy of eighteen, who had come
from Missouri, and had already seen two
years service. “I’ll go anywhere, with
you J”
“1 knew that,” said F— ; “uni now
let us pr< pare for the trip.”
After preparing themselves and, bav
in" a full understanding in regard to the
O O O
proposed undertaking, two the scouts set
out on their perilous journey, A few
nights after found them on the Southern
bank of the Potomac, w ithin sighr of the
picket post of the enemy, and but a few
miles above the Ofy of Cumberland,
whore more than !< n thousand Yankees
slumbered peaceful y in their camps.
Below the ford, on the Maryland side
lived an Irishman, named Stanton, whose
gem rous s< rviees in behalf of the
ny South,” on many an occasion, made
him deservedly a pet among the Confed
erates. A careful reconnoisauee proved
the ford unguarded, so, crossing the river,
and concealing their horses under the
bank, the two scouts were s on before the
cheerful fire of the friendly Celt. After
a, consultation, in which the feasibility of
the contemplated project was discussed
and determined, they partook ot a slight
repast at the hands ot the kind hostess,
and deputed their Irish Confederate to
obtain certain information by a day j
specified. This lie was enabled to obtain
through the assistance of a young man
in the neighborhood. This accomplish
ed, the scouts mounted their horses, and,
i-ecrofcsing the river, were, before day
break, far past immediate danger.
From a point below Romney, Haller
w’as sent wuh the following dispatch to
Lieut. McNeill:
'* Dear Jesse; I have been across the
Potc*nac, and find all “O K.” Meet rne
here on Monday evening. Haller will
give you all other particulars. The at
tempt, if carried out, will, certainly
prove successful." J. B. F.
Promptly at the appointed time and
place McNeill appeared with sixty-five
men, some of whom belonged to Rosser’s
Cavalry Brigade, who happened to he at
home on furlough, and seeing the di
rection in which the Rangers were march
ing, concluded that there “must be some
thing in the wind;” and prompted by that
love of adventure which characterized
them, fell into the ranks.
Alter leaving this point the band
crossed the, Middle Ridge and marched
swiftly, and silently, through the fields
skirting Patterson’s Creek, until they
reached the road leading to the moun
tain beyond At midnight, they 7 were
scaling the steep sides of Knoblcy moun
tain, being obliged to walk, leading their
horses through snow-drifts of uuknown
depth. Finally, the mountain was passed,
and tiie river gained aud crossed. The
faithful Stanton was on hand, and they
were speedily posted in regard to the
situation. Some delay occurred at this
point, from which the party proceeded
down the Cresap-tovvn road to Cumber
land. Arriving at the outer picket, sta
tioned at the water station, ou the B &
O R. C., iu answer to the demand for
the countersign, Lieut. McNeill spurred
forward, and, as he passed the picket, who
had halted the column, and who was
standing ou the side; of the road, he, very
imprudently, tired his pistol in his face.
It gave no alarm, however, and the ad
vance charging forward, secured the
picket, which consisted of three privates
belonging to “Cos. D, 3d Ohio Cavalry.”
The Countersign—“ Bull’s Gap”—was
thus obtained, aud the column again
moved forward. F—, and K—, a regu
lar scout attached to Rosser’s Brigade,
took the lead, and the next picket post,
composed of five men, belonging to a
West Virginia regiment, were captured
without difficulty.
Here “instructions” were given to the
men, and they were hastily assigned their
several duties, after which the command
quietly entered the City at a quarter past
thi ee o’clock in the morning Rniiug
down Greene Street, they crossed the
Iron Bridge, and marched slowly and
carelessly up Baltimore Street—the main
one of ihe City—the men whisi ling such
Yankee tunes as they could think of, and
jest ing with the guaids and patrols as
they passed. Many of the men were
partially disguised by Federal overcoats,
but in the dim twilight no perceptible
difference could be observed between the
blue and grey. Part of the command
halted in front of the St. Nicholas Ho
tel, where Gen. Kelly was supposed to
have rooms, while the rest proceeded to
the “Revere House,” the headquarters of
Gen. Crook.
S— L—, who was of the party order
ed to secure Kelly, captured the sentry on
the street, and learned from him that the
General was not there, but iu the “Bar
nuni House” mar by. Thither the party
proceeded, and L—, without waiting fora
light dashed into a room which proved to
be that of Kelly’s Adjt. Gen., Thayer
Melvin, and enquired for Gen Keily.
Bring told by Melvin that the General
was in the next room, he hastily entered,
and, telling the General who he was, de
manded his surrender. With much tre
pidation, Kelly submitted to his fate,
and the rest of the party entering with
lights, both he and Melvin were secured.
While these events were transpiring
here, a similar one wa- being enacted at
the “Revere House.” The party under
Sergeant Y —, having captured the guard
whom they found on duty in front of the
hotel, entered the house, and finding a
little colored boy in the office, ordered
him to show them Gen. Crook’s room.
Trembling, the Negro obeyed, and the
squad enten and, whereupon V—, who
was a fine looking, dressy man, demanded
the surrender of the General, staling
that he was Gen. Rosser, and that he had
surprised and captured the town and gar
rison, who wore now prisoners. Crook
seemed much startled at the announce
ment, but, concluding from the circum
stances surrounding him, he could easily
see that somehow, he certainly was a
prisoner, and affecting a careless gaiety,
lie hurriedly dressed and gave himself up.
Ihe wires in the Railroad Telegraph
office were, in the meantime destroyed,
and, afier capturing headquarter and
other flags, the party quietly retraced
their way down Baltimore street to the
Chain Bridge, where several fine horses,
including ‘Phillippi,” Gen. Kelly’s war
steed, were secured.
Daylight was fast appearing now ; ten
thousand valiant ( ?) Yankees lay within
pistol shot; fifty miles through a broken
country interposed between the Rangers
and salety. No time was therefore to be
lost, so, turning down Water street
gaining the canal tow-p ith, they r:*pldi
proceeded until, at the Locks, they f uu '
a dozen or more pickets; these W (T!
however, quietly surrounded and divested
of their arms and ammunition, and P I
party again resumed the march. At ti!,
Canal Bridge, some two miles heW
the outmost, guard of the Yankees, the
column was halted. There was no ti? C
for parley now, and giving the counter,
sign, the Rangers spurred on, se tt j n ,,'
that they were Geu. Crook’s body g na! ?
that the Rebels were advancing, and th c ff
were going nut to meet them, and would
soon clean them out.
A few moments later, and McNeil Hynj
re-crossed the river ten miles b e ],, H .
whore he had first entered Maryland
and the Rangers were again in Dixie
When the alarm was given, and the
news of the capture generally known
the confusion, excib ment, and shame of
the Yaukees were ludicrous A handlV
of cowardly “ Rebels ” to dare to come
into the midst of ten thousand gallant
Boys in Biue, and deliberately steal th
two Major Generals commanding! The
cowardly impudence of such an act de
served punishment; and the Provost
Marshall, yclept Col. J. C. L.. swore by
the big flag that adorned his cushioned
citadel, to capture the rascals by
lall. and bring the stolen heroes buck v,
bed. So, summoning a force, he pursm «{
the retreating braves, taking ample cv
to keep at a humane distance from then,
in order to prevent any little ‘‘unpleasant,
ness,” and after following them to R„m.
ney, and in sight of McNeill, who there
waited for them to attack him, the < ; ]
returned to Cumberland, mortified and
disgusted, and vented his patriotic spleen
by arresting innocent gentlemen and
submitting them to every species of in
dignity
On reaching the Moorefield Valley,
McNeill came in sight of the Ringgold
Cavalry, 25') strong, who had started
from New Creek to intercept him. The
two parties, separated by the river, urged
their wearied horses to their utmost speed,
the Yankees hoping to reach Moorefield
in time to cut off the Ranger’s retreat.
The* exultant Confederates, waving aloft
their captured banners, strained every
nerve, anxious to pass through the town
and exhibit to their friends the re
suit of their prowess. Several miles how
ever. had to be accomplished h.i<:
reaching the town, and it becoming evi
dent that the fresher steeds of the Yan
kees must win the race, thou, when re
capture seemed certain,
“Down Hants; the disappearing band.
Each warrior vanished where ho rtou.”
McNeill had suddenly entered the
woods, and taking a well known path
through tho ridges, flanked tho town, and
reached a point seven miles above t!i<
town, on the South Fork, and
eighty miles fr m Cumberland, where
they encamped for the night, having
ridden ninety miles in twenty-four huurn
without rest or food for men or iiorscs.
and accomplishing one of the most
daring and successful captures of which
we ever rem* ruber to have heard.
A party of sou- hundred Yankee cav
alry, started by Sheridan from Winch*
ter, reached Mooreficld that night, but
the bird was in the bush. Wearied ami
disgusted, the Yankees returned h*one,
while their late commanders, receiving
every attention and kindness from the
hospitable Confederates, wont on a visit L
Richmond, where, alter remaining a fe ff
weeks, they were exchanged.
Athens, Ga.—Mr" 11. K Palmei i
the authorized Agent of theß.tvNEK
the South at Athens, Ga.
The Banner of the South cm he >*
tained from News and Periodical !h:a :-
every where—
The American News Compare. N - !, !
Nassau street. New York,
The California and Pacific News tom
puny, N». 81 Nassau street. New V E
And Nows and Periodic 1 Pea:
all parts of the country ''ill fid ' :
lor the Banned of the South.
Father Ryan s Poems.— hircci
one dollar we will send the ihuiiLt
the Banner of the South contain i* -
of Father Ryan’s Poems, including
Conquered Banner, Sword of 1*
Lee, Piayer of the South, ami ot. ■
poems written by him up to daic
1869, including his Chris mi- !
and the Old Year and the Nov..
for them.
The Earls of Sutherland-" (! 11
dollar will pay for the back nuiiA *
this charming story.
Ths Banner in Alexandria, '
Mr. J. P. Jot dan, is the authorized A,:
of the Banner of the South at A. *
audria, Va.