To where the flag of Union stands, Alone, upon the blood-wet sands, A beacon unto distant lands, Belle Missouri! my Missouri! Up with the loyal Stripes and Stars, AN APPEAL TO ARMS. In earlier days, when war with fierce alarms Broke o'er our country's thinly peopled shores, The youth unbearded and the bending sire From city full" and mountain solitude While from each true, undeviating eye On many a hill, by forest and by stream, They met the foe and battled for the right; Fearless of death, home, honor was their theme, For these they dared the thickest of the fight. How gloriously did they their cause maintain, And trample under foot a despot's reign! Slumbers there not in veins of every son The zeal that nerved their sires to noblest deeds? Our glorious banner, bathed in patriot's blood, By vengeful raid, by fiery 'whelming flood, Shall freemen pause, ignobly, basely wait, BALTIMORE Our volunteers are coming! They've lived through every fray Through marching, through fighting, through fever's cruel prey To be mustered out of service, the gallant boys today! Your tattered battle-banner, unfurl it in the air! I'm seeking one beneath it—I'll know him, bronzed or fair: Oh! glad returning faces, our darling is not there! The trumpets clash exultant, the bayonets flash me blind, And still my eyes are seeking the one I cannot find; Oh! tell me true, his comrades, have you left our boy behind? Say, soldiers, did you leave him upon the battle-plain, Where fiendish shell and canister pour fierce their fiery rain? Did leave him with the wounded, or leave him with the slain ? Or, weary in the wasting camp, sore worn with sun and scar, Did turn your faces to the North, to homes beloved afar, And say, Good-by, we go, but you enlisted for the war? Be pitiful, O women! with pity softly kind! You clasp your war-worn veterans; there are mothereyes tear-blind; There are women broken-hearted for boys left behind. Oh! hear the music dying, dying on the wind, I have heard my country calling for her sons that still are true; I have loved that country, mother, only next to God and you, And my soul is springing forward to resist her bitter foe: They have robbed her in her kindness, they have tri- GO, MY BOY, WHERE DUTY CALLS YOU. umphed in her need; AN ANSWER TO “MOTHER, CAN I GO?" They have trampled on her standard, and she calls me heart be still; We must conquer it, or perish we must conquer, and we will! But the faithful must not falter, and shall I be wanting? No! Bid me go, my dearest mother! tell me, mother, can I go? He who led his chosen people, in their effort to be free From the tyranny of Egypt, will be merciful to me; Will protect me by His power, whatsoe'er I undertake; Will return me home in safety, dearest mother, for your sake. Or should this my bleeding country need a victim such Go, my boy, and Heaven bless you! precious line I have read each Of your heart's responsive throbbings to a Higher Call than mine. God hath spoken-you have heard Him—and though tears these eyes bedim, Your affection for your mother shall not mar your love for Him. Could I bid you stay from fondness, when the everruling Hand Marks your path to duty clearly for the safety of your No! 'tis yours to be a patriot, and 'tis mine to prove land? as true; Go, my boy, where duty calls you, and my heart shall follow you! Go in faith, and feel protection in a Power Supreme, Divine; Should a bullet pierce your body it will also enter mine. Do I think of this in sorrow? Does my love sad fears renew? Do I tremble at the prospect? No, my son, no more than you. Dear to me is every pathway where your precious feet have trod; But I give you fondly, freely, to my country and my God. You and I shall never falter in the work we have to do; Go, my boy, where duty calls you, and my heart shall follow you! If my boy were less a hero, less the man in thought and deed, I had less to give my country in her trying hour of need; And I feel a pride in knowing that to serve this cause divine, From the hearthstone goes no braver heart than that which goes from mine. I have loved you from the hour that my lips first pressed your brow, Ever tenderly, but never quite as tenderly as now. All I have is His who gave it, whatsoe'er He bids me do; Go, my boy, where duty calls you, and my heart shall follow you! I shall miss you through the spring-time, when the orchard is in bloom, When the smiling face of nature bathes its beauty in perfume; When the birds are sweetly singing by the door and on the wing, I shall think of you who always loved to pause and hear them sing. Long will seem the waning hours through the drowsy summer day, With my boy exposed to dangers on a soil so far away. But my spirit shall not murmur, though a tear bedim my view; Go, my boy, where duty calls you, and my heart shall follow you! You will come and see your mother, come and kiss her, as you say, From her lips receive the blessing that shall cheer you on your way; From her fond embrace go forward to resist your country's foe, With the comforting assurance that your mother bade you go. Heaven protect, and bless, and keep you; holy angels guard your way, Keep your spirit from temptation, and your feet from going astray. To your mother ever faithful, to your country ever true, Go, my boy, where duty calls you, and my heart shall follow you! how the flaming shell mounts up! Hark to the awful roar ! shell, up higher, higher still; the zenith reached at last, Down, down it goes, with fiery curve, in thunder bursts, 'tis past; Another- there, and there, with vengeful scream, and orb of fire, They circle through the skies! Look there! it bursts above the spire! List! list! Do ye not hear that cry, that shrieking comes away Where fell that dreadful, burning bolt, to mangle and to slay? Did you not hear that horrid crash of shivered timbers then, As bursting down through roof and house, 'mongst women, children, men, Upon the cowering throng it fell, and with sulphurous breath, Spread fiery ruin all around within that house of death? The ramparts answer. Flash on flash run all along their line, And many a gleaming, hissing track athwart the heav ens shine; 'Tis all in vain; their shot and shell fall short of every mark; Or, wildly erring, sullen plunge beneath the waters dark. 'Tis all in vain; our marksmen true, with an unerring aim, Behind their very ramparts lie, and bathe them red in flame; While in her holy, pensive gaze the trembling dew-Down sentry, gunner, soldier, go beneath that leaden drop weeps; Across the river's moaning flow, the bold, gray bluffs arise, Like banks of rugged, slumb’ring clouds against the sapphire skies; There Vicksburgh stands upon the slope and on the frowning height, While spire and dome gleam strangely out upon the fearful night. Ay, there is fear within the gloom, such fear as guilt may know, When it has drawn upon its crimes the swift, avenging blow. storm! Thou frowning battlement, Rebellion's only, fondest trust, With all their hopes, thy stubborn strength must topple to the dust; These waters, mingling from afar, as they sweep to the sea, Proclaim that they must still unite, that they must still be free! The time shall come when these proud hills no more shall quake with dread; Beneath their peaceful breast shall lie the heaps of gory ad; Before thy deeds of valor done, New-England's honored dead. But not alone for those who die a soldier's death of glory: Full many a brave, heroic soul has sighed its mournful story Down in the sultry swamps and plains, where fever's subtle breath Has drained the life-blood from their hearts, and laid them low in death As proud a memory yours, O ye who murmured no complaint! Who saw Hope's vision day by day grow indistinct and faint; Who, far from home and loving hearts, from all yet held most dear, Have died. O noble, unknown dead! ye leave a record here! New-England! on thy spotless shield, inscribe thine honored dead, ONE of the arts by which the Southern heart is fired is this: Soon after the battle of Murfreesboro, the rebel General Bragg caused to be printed and widely circulated in the army counterfeits of the Nashville Union, in which was conspicuously displayed "Startling News! Four States Seceded from the Old Government! Missouri, Indiana, Illinois, and Kentucky!" This was followed by an editorial bewailing the loss of these States. Of course the whole affair was a forgery, but the illiterate soldiery of the South, a large proportion of whom cannot read at all, could not de tect it. While Buckner was in Kentucky, bogus copies of the Louisville Journal were freely circulated by the rebels, filled with all kinds of matter adapted to inflame and encourage the rebels, and discourage the loyal. WILLIAM REID, an old sailor and man-of-war's man, who was on board the Owasco, was one of the heroes of the fight at Galveston. During the hottest moments of the battle between the Owasco and the rebel batteries, this man, who is forty-eight years of age, received a severe wound while in the act of loading his rifle. His two forefingers on his left hand were shot away, and the surgeon ordered him below, but he refused to go, and tying his pocket handkerchief around his fingers, he remained on deck and did good execution with his rifle. Not more than thirty minutes after, another shot struck him in his right shoulder, and the blood spirted out through his shirt. Master's Mate Arbana then ordered him to go below, and have the surgeon dress his wounds. The brave old fellow said: "No, sir, as long as there is any fighting to be done, I will stay on deck!" After the engagement was over the noble-hearted sailor had his wounds dressed and properly attended to. He is now on board the Owasco, and whenever they beat to general quarters you will see William Reid standing at his post ready for orders. He was told one day by the Captain to go below, as he was on the sick-list, and his place was in the hospital; he was displeased with this remark and replied: "No, Captain, my eyes are good and I can pull a lockstring as well as any on 'em!" The lockstring is a lanyard connected with the cap that fires the gun. Master's Mate Arbana of the Owasco had a very narrow escape from death at the battle of Galveston, three shots having struck him in different places. One of the bullets passed completely through the crown of his cap, another penetrated his pantaloons just below the right knee, taking the piece of cloth And coming nations yet unborn will read, with glow-with it. The third shot struck his sword just as he Oh! keep their memory fresh and green, when blooms o'er their head; ing pride, turf Of those who bore thy conquering arms, and suffering, fought and died; Who, foremost in the gallant van, laid life and honor down Oh! deck with fadeless bays their names who've won the martyr's crown. raised it in the air, and ordered his men to give a rousing cheer for "Yankee Doodle." CICERONE. BRAVERY OF CAPT. W. N. GREEN.-Among the interesting incidents of the battle of Chancellorsville, that of the capture of the colors of the Twelfth regiA REGIMENT OF GREYBEARDS -The Thirty-seventh ment, Georgia volunteers, during the battle of Sunregiment of Iowa volunteers (known as the " Grey-day, May third, 1863, by Captain William N. Green, beard Regiment") left St. Louis on Monday for the South. A striking peculiarity of this regiment is, that nearly all its members, officers and men, are over forty-five years of age. Three fourths of them are grey-headed, and many have long white beards, giving them a venerable appearance. Many have sent their sons to the field, and are now following them. commanding the color company of the One Hundred and Second regiment N. Y. S. V., is worthy of commemoration, as evidence of the fighting qualities of the Nationals, and as an act of personal strength and bravery: After several days' severe fighting between the United States forces under General Hooker, and the confederate forces under General Lee, the morning of Sunday, May third, 1863, found the One Hundred and Second regiment, N. Y. S. V., forming a portion of the Twelfth army corps, lying in the trenches on the extreme left of the Federal forces. A WIFE ON THE BATTLE-FIELD-The following extract from a letter, dated at Corinth on the sixth of October, 1862, vividly portrays the fearful emotions and anxious thoughts which torture the mind of an observer during the progress of battle, and narrates but one of the many harrowing scenes of war: "O my friend! how can I tell you of the tortures that have nearly crazed me for the last three days! Pen is powerless to trace, words weak to convey one tithe of the misery I have endured. I thought myself strong before. I have seen so much of suffering that I thought my nerves had grown steady, and I could bear any thing; but to-day I am weak and trembling, like a frightened child. The battle commenced at five A.M., and the One Hundred and Second were for several hours subjected to a heavy fire from a battery of the rebels, situated on their right flank; at ten A.M., the enemy's infantry attacked the brigade of which the One Hundred and Second N. Y. S. V. was a part, and succeeded in driving the regiment which was on the right of the One Hundred and Second away in confusion; advancing up the trenches, the enemy charged the One Hundred and Second, and were repulsed. Soon after the "But do not wonder at it. My dear husband lies One Hundred and Second was charged upon by the besides me, wounded unto death perhaps. I have lost Twelfth regiment, Georgia volunteers, and immedi- all hope of saving him, though I thank God for the ately the men of each regiment were engaged in hand-privilege of being this moment beside him. And beto-hand conflicts. The company of the One Hundred and Second N. Y. S. V., which Captain Green commanded, was especially singled out by the enemy for a fierce struggle, as they had charge of the National colors; the captain commanding the Twelfth regiment Georgia volunteers, rushed forward at the head of his men, and made a jump right at Captain Green, calling out to him, Surrender," to which Captain Green replied, “Not yet;" then seizing the rebel captain by the throat with his left hand, he flung him violently to the ground, by tripping him up, and wrenched his sword from his grasp. Captain Green was then seized from behind by an ambulance-sergeant of the rebels, who, putting his knee in the middle of his back, flung him on the ground. Captain Green sprung to his feet, and putting both swords (his own and the rebel captain's) into his left hand, he knocked the ambulance-sergeant down with his right hand. sides this, all around me the sufferers lie moaning in agony. There has been little time to tend them, poor fellows. True, the surgeons are busy all the time, but all the wounded have not yet been brought in, and it seems as if the time will never come when our brave men shall have been made comfortable as circumstances may permit. It is awful to look around me. I can see every imaginable form of suffering, and yet am helpless to aid them any of consequence. "Since night before last, I have not left my husband's side for a moment, except to get such things as I re quired, or to hand some poor fellow a cup of water. Even as I write my heart throbs achingly to hear the deep groans and sharp cries about me. Fis sleeping, but I dare not close my eyes, lest he should die while I sleep. And it is to keep awake, and in a manner relieve my overburdened heart, that I am now writing you under such sad circumstances. "On the morning of the third instant the fight began. Captain Green then sprang forward some six feet, The attack was made on General McArthur's division, and grasped with his right hand the flag-staff of the and we could plainly hear the roll of the artillery here, as rebel battle-flag, which the color-sergeant was hold-it is about two miles and a half distant only from this ing, and said to the color-bearer, "Give me that flag," at the same time pulling the flag-staff away from the sergeant; he then tore the flag from the flag-staff, and flung the staff over the parapet, putting the flag inside the breast of his fatigue-jacket. Captain Green then went to two rebel privates who were a few feet off and demanded them to give up their muskets, which they did. Taking the muskets, he gave them to some of his own company to carry off, and taking the equipments of the two privates, he flung them into a puddle of water near by; then going to the rebel captain he pulled him up off of the ground, and putting him, together with the ambulance-sergeant, the color-sergeant, and the two privates, under charge of two of his company, sent them to the rear, to be placed in custody under the provost-guard. Thus in the short space of five minutes, Captain Green disarmed one captain, one ambulance-sergeant, and two privates of the Twelfth Georgia volunteers, besides taking their color-sergeant, with his colors, and sending the whole of them, five in number, as prisoners, under guard to the rear. The rebel flag was one of the confederate battleflags, made of coarse red serge cloth, about four and a half feet square, having a blue Saint Andrew's cross running from each corner; three white stars were in each limb of the cross, and one star in the centre, making thirteen stars in all. The flag was sent to General Hooker by his order; the sword was presented to Captain Green by his brigade commander, for his good conduct during the battle. place. Oh! the fearful agony of that awful, awful "Late in the afternoon I succeeded in gaining a little intelligible information. Poor General Hackleman was shot through the neck, while giving a command, and fell mortally wounded. He died between ten and eleven o'clock the same night, I have since learned. Up to the time of receiving the wound he had acted with the greatest bravery and enthusiasm, tempered by a coolness that made every action effective. When dusk at last put an end to the first day's conflict, I learned that General Oglesby had been dangerously wounded, but could gain no intelligence of my husband. I could not bear the suspense. Dark as it was, and hopeless as it seemed to search for him then, I started out to the battle-field. "Oh! how shall I describe the search of that night? It looked like madness. It was madness. But all |