All along that quivering column, see the death-steeds trampling down Men whose deeds this day are worthy of a kingdom and a crown.

Prithee, hasten, Uncle Jared-what's the bullet in my breast To that murderous storm of fire, raining tortures on the rest?

See, the bayonets flash and falter-look I the foe begins to win!

See, see our faltering comrades! G.o.d! how the ranks are closing in!

Hark! there's muttering in the distance, and a thundering in the air, Like the snorting of a lion just emerging from his lair; There's a cloud of something yonder, fast unrolling like a scroll; Quick, quick! if it be succor that can save the cause a soul!

Look! a thousand thirsty bayonets are flashing down the vale, And a thousand hungry riders dashing onward like a gale.

Raise me higher, Uncle Jared; place the ensign in my hand; I am strong enough to wave it, while you cheer that flying band.

Louder! louder! shout for Freedom, with prolonged and vigorous breath; Shout for Liberty, and Union, and-the victory over death!

See! they catch the stirring numbers, and they swell them to the breeze, Cap, and plume, and starry banner, waving proudly through the trees.

Mark! our fainting comrades rally-mark! that drooping column rise; I can almost see the fire newly kindled in their eyes.

Fresh for conflict, nerved to conquer, see them charging on the foe, Face to face, with deadly meaning, shot, and sh.e.l.l and trusty blow; See the thinned ranks wildly breaking; see them scatter toward the sun!

I can die now, Uncle Jared, for the glorious day is won.

But there's something, something pressing with a numbness on my heart, And my lips, with mortal dumbness, fail the burden to impart.

O, I tell you, Uncle Jared, there is something, back of all, That a soldier can not part with when he heeds his country's call.

Ask the mother what, in dying, sends the yearning spirit back Over life's broken marches, where she's pointed out the track?

Ask the dear ones gathered nightly round the shining household hearth, What to them is brighter, better than the choicest things of earth?

Ask that dearer one, whose loving, like a ceaseless vestal flame, Sets my very soul a-glowing at the mention of her name; Ask her why the loved, in dying, feels her spirit linked with his In a union death but strengthens? she will tell you what it is.

And there's something, Uncle Jared, you may tell her, if you will, That the precious flag she gave me I have kept unsullied still; And-this touch of pride forgive me-where Death sought our gallant host, Where our stricken lines were weakest, there it ever waved the most; Bear it back, and tell her, fondly, brighter, purer, steadier far, 'Mid the crimson strife of battle, shone my life's unsetting star!

But, forbear, dear Uncle Jared, when there's something more to tell, And her lips, with rapid blanching, bid you answer how I fell; Teach your tongue the trick of slighting, though 'tis faithful to the rest, Lest it say her brother's bullet is the bullet in my breast.

But, if it must be that she learn it, despite your tender care, 'T will soothe her bleeding heart to know my bayonet p.r.i.c.ked the air.

Life is ebbing, Uncle Jared; my enlistment endeth here; Death, the conqueror, has drafted-I can no more volunteer.

But I hear the roll-call yonder, and I go with willing feet Through the shadows to the valley where victorious armies meet.

Raise the ensign, Uncle Jared-let its dear folds o'er me fall; Strength and Union for my country, and G.o.d's banner over all.[]

CHAPTER X.

Sports in Camp - Anecdote of the 63d Ohio and Colonel Sprague - Soldier's Dream of Home - The Wife's Reply.

Army of the c.u.mberland, Camp near Triune, Tenn., May 12, 1863.

There are, at all times, sunny sides as well as the dark and melancholy picture, in camp life. Men whose business is that of slaughter-men trained to slay and kill, will, amid the greatest destruction of life, become oblivious to all surrounding scenes of death and carnage.

I have seen men seated amid hundreds of slain, quietly enjoying a game of "seven-up," or having a little draw. Yet let them once return to their homes, and enjoy the society and influence of the gentler s.e.x, and they will soon forget the excitement and vices of camp, and return to the more useful and enn.o.bling enjoyments of life.

Yesterday a lively time, generally, was had in camp. After the drilling of the division, a grand c.o.c.k-fight occurred on the hill. Some of the boys, who are regular game-fanciers, brought some splendid chickens, and, as a consequence, a good deal of money changed hands. The birds fought n.o.bly: three were killed, one of them killing his opponent the first round, and instantly crowing, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the Sports. This fighting with gaffs is not a cruel sport, as one or the other is soon killed.

Snakes are not so prevalent in these parts as they were when we first came: then it was not uncommon to find a nice little "garter" quietly ensconced in one's pocket, or in your pantaloon leg, or taking a nap in one corner of your tent.

A prize-fight occurred in the division a few days ago. A couple of sons of Ethiopia, regular young bucks, feeling their dignity insulted by various epithets hurled at each other, from loud-mouthing adjourned to fight it out in the woods-a big crowd following to enjoy the fun. A ring was soon formed, and at it they went, a la Sayers and Heenan. Umpires were improvised for the occasion, and time-keepers, etc., chosen.

The first clash was a b.u.t.ter and a reb.u.t.ter, their heads coming together, fairly making the wool fly. This was round first.

Round 2d.-35th Ohio darkey came boldly to the scratch; as he only weighed sixty-five pounds more than his opponent, and with the slight difference of one foot six inches higher, he pitched in most valiantly, and received a splendid hit on the sconce, which made him feel as if a flea bit him. After full ten minutes skirmishing, during which time neither struck the other, both retired to the further corner of the ring, until time was called.

Round 3d.-Minnesota Ethiopian, who had been weakening in the pulse for some time, came up shaky, and was received with laughter by his opponent; but the little fellow hit out splendidly, and launched an eye-shutter at the stalwart form of the 35th darkey. First blood claimed for the 2d Minnesota.

Round 4th was, per agreement, a rough and tumble affair, as the spectators were growing impatient; and such "wool-carding" was never before exhibited. Both fought plucky; but the 2d Minnesota having but just recovered from a sick of fitness, as he said, was about being overpowered, when the officer of the day interfered; and thus ended the dispute for the time. Betters drew their money, as the fight was a draw.

Ball in Camp.

Last night we had a fancy-dress ball, a recherche affair, a fine dancing-floor having been laid down in Company I's ground. A first-rate cotillion band was engaged, and played up lively airs. Your correspondent had a special invitation to be present, and enjoyed the party amazingly.

The belles of the evening were Miss Allers, the Widow Place, Miss Stewart, Miss Austin, and Miss Dodge, all of Minnesota.

Miss Dodge wore an elegant wreath of red clover, mingled with beech-leaves, and was dressed in red and white-the red being part of a shirt, kindly furnished by one of the friends of the lady; the white was expressly manufactured by the Widow Place, dressmaker and milliner for this regiment.

Miss Stewart is a beautiful creature, of a bronzed hue, from excessive exposure to the sun. She also wore a wreath of young clover, mingled with bunches of wheat.

Miss Allers was rather undignified in her actions; her dress we thought too short at the bottom, and too high in the neck; however, Miss A. was dressed in Union colors, having an American flag for an ap.r.o.n, and blue and red dress, with a neat-fitting waste-of materials.

But the one in whom we felt the deepest interest was the Widow. She had all the grace and elegance of a hippopotamus, and her style was enchanting. She wore a low-necked dress, with a bouquet of cauliflowers and garlick in her bosom, a wreath of onion-greens in her hair, full, red dress, and elaborate hoops, which continually said, "Don't come a-nigh me." Her bashful behavior was the talk of the evening, and the gay Widow and your correspondent, when upon the floor, were the cynosure of all eyes. The dance continued until the Colonel ordered a double tattoo sounded, so that we could hear it. Several intruders were put out, for conduct unbecoming gentlemen. The ball was strictly private, as no commissioned officers were allowed to partic.i.p.ate.

However, the officers were truly amused at the fun, and, as women have, ere this, been dressed in men's clothes, there is no reason the boot shouldn't, this time, be on the other leg.

Miss Austin's dance of the Schottische, with double-soled military boots, was excellent. Miss Austin belongs in Louisville, and has long been known as a female auctioneer.

The 9th Ohio band has arrived, and the boys are delighted. This is a new band, all Cincinnati musicians, and they are truly welcome to the camp.

Boys want to hear from home as often as possible. It will be well for the girls to bear this in mind, and write often. Letters of love, we may say, alphabetically speaking, are X T Z to those who get them.

Anecdote of the 63d Ohio and Colonel Sprague.

The 63d boys love Colonel Sprague; they are not exactly afraid of him, but many a one would rather be whipped, any day, than take a reprimand from him. For instance: several nights ago one of the men, instigated by the love of good eating, and not having the fear of G.o.d before his eyes, attempted to pinch, as they say in the 63d, a can of fruit at the sutler's tent. But, unluckily for him, the sutler saw him, sprang out of bed, caught him by the collar and took him prisoner. As soon as the sutler got hold of him he began to address him in language more forcible than polite. "You d-d thief, I'll pay you for this; I'll take you before the Colonel, and, if I had my boots on, I'd take it out in kicking you."

"I'll tell you what," said the soldier, "I'll wait here till you put your boots on, and you may kick me as much as you please, if you won't take me before the Colonel."

The following exquisite poem was handed me by Colonel Durbin Ward, of the 17th Ohio. I wish I knew the author. They are beautiful lines:

The Soldier's Dream of Home.

You have put the children to bed, Alice- Maud and Willie and Rose; They have lisped their sweet "Our Father,"

And sunk to their night's repose.

Did they think of me, dear Alice?

Did they think of me, and say, "G.o.d bless him, and G.o.d bless him, Dear father, far away?"

O, my very heart grows sick, Alice, I long so to behold Rose, with her pure white forehead, And Maud, with her curls of gold; And Willie, so gay and sprightly, So merry and full of glee-, O, my heart yearns to enfold ye, My smiling group of three.

I can bear the noisy day, Alice- The camp life, gay and wild, Shuts from my yearning bosom The thoughts of wife and child; But when the night is round me, And under its starry beams I gather my cloak about me, And dream such long, sad dreams!

I think of a pale young wife, Alice, Who looked up in my face When the drum beat at evening And called me to my place.