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The invading tribe called Yankees, With Lincoln for their guide, Tried to keep Kentucky

From joining in the ride;

But she heeded not their entreaties-
She has come into the ring;
She wouldn't fight for a Government
Where Cotton wasn't king.
CHORUS-SO wait for the wagon, &c.

Old Lincoln and his Congressmen,
With Seward by his side,

Put old Scott in the wagon,
Just for to take a ride.
McDowell was the driver;

To cross Bull Run he tried,
But there he left the wagon,
For Beauregard to ride.
CHORUS-Wait for the wagon, &c.

Manassas was the battle-ground;

The field was fair and wide; The Yankees thought they'd whip us out, And on to Richmond ride; But when they met our "Dixie" boys, Their danger they espied; They wheeled about for Washington, And didn't wait to ride. CHORUS-SO wait for the wagon, &c.

Brave Beauregard-God bless him!—
Led legions in his stead,
While Johnson seized the colors,
And waved them o'er his head.
To rising generations,

With pleasure we will tell
How bravely our Fisher

And gallant Johnson fell. CHORUS-SO wait for the wagon, &c.



Advance, or not advance; that is the question! Whether 'tis better in the mind to suffer

The jeers and howlings of outrageous Congressmen;
Or to take up arms against a host of rebels,
And, by opposing, beat them?-To fight-to win-
No more and by a victory, to say we end
This war, and all the thousand dreadful shocks
The flesh's exposed to-'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To fight, to win,
To beat! perchance be beaten ;-ay, there's the rub;
After a great defeat, what would ensue !
When we have shuffled off the battle-field,
Must give us pause; there's the respect
That makes calamity a great defeat.
But shall I bear the scorn of all the North,
The "outward" pressure, and old Abe's reviling,
The pangs of being scoffed at for this long delay,
The turning out of office-(ay, perchance,
When I myself might now my greatness make
With a great battle?) I'd not longer bear
To drill and practice troops behind entrenchments,
But that the fear of meeting with the foe
On dread Manassas, from whose plains
Few of us would return-puzzles my will,
And makes me rather bear the ills I have,
Than fly to others which are greater far.
These Southerners make cowards of us all.


Written on the occasion of Lincoln's proclamation for prayer and fasting after the battle of Manassas. Revised and improved by the author.

Old Abe was sitting in his chair of state,
With one foot on the mantel, and one on the grate,
Now smoking his pipe, and then scratching his pate;
For he had heard some disastrous news of late,
As fearful as death, and as cruel as fate.
In an old earthen jug, on a table near by,
Was a gallon of "Buckeye," or "choice old rye,”
To cheer up his hopes, which were ready to die,
Under whose potent charms old Abe would be able
To lay all his griefs, like a bill, "on the table;"
Or, shut up his woe, like a horse, in a stable.
He sat in his chair,

With a woe-begone air,

Gazing at nothing with a meaningless stare,
And looked like a wild beast just "skeered" in his


"It's the devil!" said Lincoln; and sure he's right,
For just at that moment there gleamed on his sight
The glare of a horrible sulphurous light,
Encircling a form so ghastly and grim,
That his heart ceased to beat, and his eyes grew dim.
That form stood before him, majestic and dread,
With large cloven feet, and huge horns on his head.
Mr. Lincoln was seized with a terrible quaking,
And the bones in his skin were rattling and shaking,
Like the " dry bones" in the "Valley of

With such a dreadful collision

Or a rebel" masked battery" on "Arlington Heights."
On the wings of the midnight winds it flew,
And nearer it came, and louder it grew,
Till Washington City seemed all in a stew.
It paused just before

The "White House" door,
And then died away with an explosive roar.


As threatened to make a long division"

Of his body and members, without "legal decision." "How's your health, Mr. Lincoln?" said Old Nick, with a grin;

"I have only stepped in

To renew old acquaintance with your honor ag'in.
How are Seward, and Scott, and good Mrs. L.?
I hope all your friends are still hearty and well."
Thus saying, he seated himself in a chair,
And gazed at Old Abe with an impudent stare;
Took a drink of "hot lead" from a flaming sky.

Which he drew from the depths of his overcoat

Consulted his watch with a dandyish grace,

Said he'd make a quick trip through the regions of

On the train of a comet, in a journey sublime
Over millions of miles in a moment of time.

His cheek-bones were high, and his visage was rough,
Like a middling of bacon, all wrinkled and tough;
His nose was as long, and as ugly and big,
As the snout of a half-starved Illinois pig;
He was long in the legs, and long in the face,
A Longfellow born of a long-legged race,
Yet longing through grace for a much longer space,
Till he'd finished his political wild-goose chase-
Bringing wreck on his country, and endless disgrace
On the blockheads who'd placed him in "the very
wrong place."

The news had just reached him of rout and defeat,
Of his "Grand Army" broken-of disastrous re-

His best men were slain on the field of the fight;
His legions were scattered with panic and flight;
And his plans had all met with a ruinous blight;
His treasury was bankrupt, his finances smashed;
His credit was gone, and his bills were uncashed;
His country with terrible foes still begirt,
Was tumbling to ruin like a fabric of dirt;

I have come here on business momentously great,
Which deeply involves your political fate.
What means, Mr. Lincoln, this strange proclamation,
In which you've invited the whole Yankee nation
To fasting and prayer, and to humiliation ?

It is strange how a thrashing has altered your notions,
And called into action your pious devotions;

"I'm afraid," said Old Abe, "there's somebody hurt." It seems to me, sir, you're a whimsical set,
Thus sitting and thinking-

Ever twisting and turning, like an eel in a net.

You flounder and flout,

'Twixt smoking and drinking-
His head on his bosom was gradually sinking,
When a sound met his ear,
So sharp and so clear,

That he sprang to his feet-standing breathless to

With his mind full of dread, and his heart full of fear; 'Twas not like the roll of the hurricane's thunder, Nor the earthquake that cleaves the tall mountains asunder;

"Twas not like the storms which tumultuously sweep
O'er the lone bending woods and the dark rolling

But a sharp, angry crashing,
A confusion and clashing,

Like things in general, promiscuously smashing.
"It's the Devil!" thought Abe, in the sorest of

"You yourself," said the fiend, with a wink of his eye,
"Can travel like blazes,' when danger is nigh.
Your Grand Army, too, are distinguished for speed,
And run, like the devil,' in cases of need.
But all this aside-allow me to state,

And turn in and turn out,

Till my wits are puzzled to know what you're about;
And now, in all candor, I must call your attention
To the truths which at present you'll allow me to


You know, in the first place, you owe your election
To the aid and protection
Of a demagogue crew who own my direction.
I invented your platform, and gave it éclat,
About niggers,' and 'freedom,' and the great 'higher

From the top of this platform-outstretching below,
I showed you the kingdoms which I would bestow,
If you and your party would only agree
To fall down in worship and homage to me;
Obey my directions, fulfil my commands,
Spread carnage and death over all these lands,
By a horrible warfare, such as would win
Success to my cause, and a triumph to sin.
To all of these terms you most promptly agreed,
And made them your grounds of political creed;
I gave you my subjects—the best I have got,
Such as Cameron, and Seward, and Old Granny



Assisted by Greeley, and Bennett, and Weed,
As miserable scoundrels as Tophet could breed,
To fix up a plan for preserving the Union,'
In the bonds of a happy fraternal communion,
By a terrible warfare of conquest and blood,
Such as never was known since the day of the flood.
I gave you my minions from the purlieus of hell,
The ranks of your fearful grand army to swell;
I stirred up the North with its vagabond crew,
And set witch-burning Yankeedom all in a stew,
With its isms and schisms-fanatical trappings-
Its free-loving humbugs, and spiritual rappings :
I called out its teachers,
(Hypocritical preachers,)

And demagogue screechers,

To martial your leaders to conquest and fame; But, alas! to your shame,

No victory came,

Your armies went forth, but not to the battleThey went forth to plunder the fields of their cattle; To steal the young chickens, and capture the hens, (Like William Come-Trimble-Too,) and put 'em in pens.

In the pages of history, no loftier place

Can be claimed for your thieving and cowardly race,
Than to tell they were valiant in stealing a hen,
But ran in confusion from the presence of men.
When at last your Grand Army was forced to a fight,
They were routed, defeated, and driven in flight,
Overwhelmed with confusion, from the plains of Ma-

Like a miserable pack of terrified asses.
Was't for this I labored with vigilant toil,

But reproach and disgrace on the whole The avenger is coming. O'er your dark future path Yankee name. Is brooding a storm of terrible wrath. The wrongs of oppression, the blood of the slain, The pleadings of widows for their lost ones again, The cries of the poor, all starving for bread, The curse of the nation, overwhelming with dread, Shall break like an avalanche full on your head.

To sow tares of contention all over your soil?—
To build up your party with lying pretensions,
With demagogue tricks, and Chicago Conventions?
If this is the fruit of my labor and zeal,

I am sure I deserve the remorse that I feel,

For becoming the tool

Of a shallow-brained fool,

With the form of an ape, and the head of a calf;
It is sowing the whirlwind, and reaping the chaff."
"What say you to this?" cried Old Nick, waxing hot.
Quoth President Lincoln, "You must ask General

"Old Scott's an old ass, and Seward to boot; And as for yourself, you're a pitiful brute, Too mean to let live, and too worthless to shoot.

"But to come to the point more directly in hand,
Allow me once more in good faith to demand
The grounds of this pitiful, vile proclamation,
For fasting and prayer by the whole Yankee nation.
Do you think that Jehovah will favor your cause,
While you murder, and steal, and violate laws?
Will your prayers be heard when you ask the Eternal
For help to accomplish your objects inferna!?
No; this war, like yourself, is begotten in sin,

And lose it or win,

You must now begin

To fight with the spirit of 'Seventy-six, And abandon your pitiful Yankee tricks." Quoth "Honest Old Abe," "I'm in a very bad fix." "You are right now, for once," said Old Nick, with a grin ;

"But such are the fruits of transgression and sin. Then where lies the blame? Not with me, I am


You made the disease: you must seek for the cure.


And now, in conclusion, your attention I call
To a single fact more-'tis the saddest of all."
(As he spoke, the hot tears came flush to his eyes.)
"The Gospel has made me the father of lies;'
And the record is true. From the very beginning
I have tutored the world in lying and sinning;
But it stirs up my soul with grief and vexation,
To see your abominable Yankee nation
Outstripping me far in the depths of its shame,
And heaping reproach on my kingdom and name.
I've one word to add; it's a terrible one!
The race of your treachery is almost run;
Your political sky looks dark and dun;
The fate-clouds are gathering o'er your setting sun;
You have ruined your nation-degraded its name,
And hurled on its people a heritage of shame;
You have murdered its glory and pride at a blow,
And filled its proud cities with wailing and woe.

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AIR-" Red, White, and Blue."

Oh! Dixie, the land of King Cotton,

The home of the brave and the free; A nation by Freedom begotten,

The terror of despots to be; Wherever thy banner is streaming, Base tyranny quails at thy feet, And Liberty's sunlight is beaming In splendor of majesty sweet.


Three cheers for our army so true!

Three cheers for Price, Johnston, and Lee, Beauregard and our Davis forever!

The pride of the brave and the free!

When Liberty sounds her war-rattle, Demanding her right and her due, The first land who rallies to battle

Is Dixie, the shrine of the true;

Thick as leaves of the forest in summer,

Her brave sons will rise on each plain; And then strike, until each vandal comer Lies dead on the soil he would stain. CHORUS-Three cheers for our army, &c.

May the names of the dead that we cherish,
Fill memory's cup to the brim;
May the laurels they've won never perish,
Norstar of their glory grow dim;"
May the States of the South never sever,
But champions of freedom e'er be;
May they flourish, Confed'rate forever,

The boast of the brave and the free.
CHORUS-Three cheers for our army, &c.

COL. CROGIAN.-The death of Col. Croghan, who was killed by Gen. Benham's command, in the retreat of Floyd from Kanawha, is no small loss to the rebels. He was an excellent officer, a noble-looking man, and formerly in the regular service, a graduate of West Point, and a class-mate of Gen. Benham. He was a son of Gen. Croghan, the defender of Fort Stephenson, and was formerly quite wealthy, once owning the Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. On his death-bed he confessed that he had received only what he deserved-that he was wrong-and asked them to pray for him. He refused to allow any medical assistance, probably well aware his time was come. The meeting and recognition between him and Gen. Benham was painful to witness. Said the General:


'My God, Croghan! is this you?"

"Yes," said the dying man; "but for God's sake, Benham, do not reproach me-I know now I was in the wrong."

Hearing the cannonading, he remarked: "General, you can do me no good, and you are wanted over there, are you not?"-Wheeling Intelligencer.

INCIDENTS OF THE BATTLE OF BELMONT.--A correspondent of the St. Louis Democrat, giving an account of the burial of our dead upon the field of battle at Belmont, by a party which returned after the battle, with a flag of truce, relates the following incidents:

Our dead were mostly lying upon their backs, and every thing taken from their bodies that could be of value to the enemy. The countenances of the dead were mostly expressive of rage. One or two features were expressive of fear. One poor fellow, after he was wounded, bethought himself to take a smoke; he was found in a sitting position, against a tree, dead, with his pipe in one hand, his knife in the other, and his tobacco on his breast.

A young lad about sixteen was found lying across a log, just as he fell, grasping his musket in both hands.

A wounded man, with both legs nearly shot off, was found in the woods, singing the Star-Spangled Banner; but for this circumstance the surgeons say they would not have discovered him.

A captain of one of the regiments was looking at the prisoners we captured at Belmont, and recog

nized one as his own brother.

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HOW THIRTY-FIVE REBELS WERE CAPTURED.-We are indebted to a friend, who returned yesterday the capture of a company of thirty-five Secessionists, from Fort Wise, for the following facts relative to under one Chamberlain, on their way to join the Confederate forces:

Long left Fort Wise, with a company of cavalry num"On the morning of the 20th of October, Capt. bering some thirty-six, in search of any bands of hostile Indians that might be scouring over the country. When about forty miles south of Fort Wise, he THE "CONFEDERATE" CONGRESS.-The first Con- came in sight of what he supposed to be a band of gress of the Confederate States, under the permanent | Indians, and he ordered his men to dismount. The

sergeant of the company being afflicted with rheuma- I tism, begged to be excused from dismounting, saying that he would ride up to the party and ascertain who they were. Capt. Long allowed him to proceed, and when within a short distance of the camp of the strange party, he was commanded to halt by one of their pickets, who presented a rifle at the sergeant. The sergeant told him not to shoot, as he had a company a short distance off that would kill the whole party if they harmed him. He was allowed to proceed to the camp, where he found all but two of the men asleep. One of them presented a gun at him, but did not shoot. After some conversation, the Sergeant was permitted to leave the camp. When safely outside of it, and as soon as he reached a hill, where he was in full view of his own company, he gave the signal by waving his handkerchief.

Capt. Long left the horses in charge of a few men, took the balance of the company, and surrounded the Secesh. Capt. Long commanded them to stack their arms and surrender. Chamberlain surrendered, but refused to stack arms, and threw his rifle into the fire. They were all taken and marched back to Fort Wise. Upon investigation, it was ascertained that the company had been raised in Denver, and was on its way to Arkansas, for the purpose of taking a part in the rebellion. They are confined at Fort Wise.-Leavenworth Times.

DISAPPOINTED. We are reliably informed that a few evenings ago the family of Andrew Johnson felt so assured that he would make his appearance in Greenville at the head of a Lincoln force, that they made preparations for giving the distinguished traitor a splendid supper upon his arrival. What a delusion!-Nashville Banner, Nov. 20.

A BOSTON Correspondent of the Anti-Slavery Standard, writes that he is engaged in partial attendance upon two courses of lectures on "The Use of the Rifle" and "The Evidences of Christianity," and adds: "As opposite as lemon and sugar, are they not? Suppose the watery element to be supplied, (of which there is generally little stint,) and the result is a sort of moral lemonade; or, if a little spirit be smuggled in, behold an intellectual punch!"

same time that it was a pleasant thing to receive gifts from a lady. At this she asked him whether he had a wife, and immediately his eyes filled with tears, which rolled down his cheeks as he replied, "Yes, madam, I have a wife and six children." Observing his emotion, her own eyes rapidly filling at the sight, she quickly remarked to him: "Well, keep up a good heart." " Good heart! yes, madam, that is my name; Goodheart is my name!" Upon the instant their tears were changed to smiles, and Goodheart, the lady, and the soldier's companions, broke into a hearty laugh.—Ohio Statesman, Dec. 4.

RETRIBUTION.-A letter from a private in the Seventy-ninth Highlanders, discloses an instance of just retribution which fell on an earnest traitor who should have been hung months ago. It will be remembered that in the early part of summer a man employed in the Washington navy yard was discovered filling shells with sand instead of the proper material. This man had received a medical education, and on his escape within the rebel lines resumed the practice of his profession. When the Seventy-ninth landed at Port Royal, the first sight which greeted them on entering the hospital was this man seated at a table, with a splendid case of surgical instruments before him, his left arm resting naturally upon the table and the position of his body indicating perfect ease, but upon a closer examination it was discovered that the entire upper portion of his head had been cut away, from the crown to the back of his neck, by a cannon ball.-N. Y. Commercial, Dec. 2.

Galveston, Nov. 9, via New Orleans, Nov. 15.At half-past three o'clock this morning the sentinels on the steamer Rusk, saw the steamer Royal Yacht, Capt. C. Heeble, abandoned and burning, off Bolivar, in the Bay. Boats were sent to her assistance. The fire was within a few feet of her magazine, which was saved and the fire quenched. The damage was light. There were indications of a stout resistance by her crew. The cutlasses were found below deck, but the other small arms were missing. Musket balls were found imbedded in her sides. It is supposed a frigate launch neared the Yacht before it was discovered. The attacking party evidently consisted of two hun-mish! hell and damnation! I'd like to know what he dred men. The Yacht's crew numbered fifteen. The calls a battle."-Boston Evening Transcript, Dec. 6. Yacht was brought in. The enemy, evidently frightened, left in a hurry.-N. O. Crescent, Nov. 15.

BISHOP GENERAL POLK is falling into the habit of using strong expressions for a man who seceded from the clerical profession. A correspondent of the Cincinnati Gazette, writing from Louisville, remarks as follows of this ministerial fighter: I think the Right Reverend Bishop General Polk, if some one has not slandered him, sent a flag of truce to the devil, when he laid aside the sword of the spirit and took up the carnal weapons of Jeff. Davis, and has since fallen into the habit of the army in Flanders. It is stated on the authority of a gentleman who was present, that when a note of inquiry was sent down to Columbus by Gen. Grant, after the fight at Belmont, in which the action was mentioned as a "skirmish," the Bishop General, on reading it, exclaimed, "Skir

States, secured.)
On a recent event.


(Copyright in the Confederate

Old Mason proud, and sly Slidell
Away to Europe cut their lucky,
Or thought they had, till sweet to tell,

The pair were bagged by Wilkes the plucky.

Wilkes brought them safely into port,

Despite John Bull's protest and swearin', They thought Diplomacy their forte,

They'll find their fort will be-Fort Warren.

A HAPPY COINCIDENCE.-As a large-hearted Union lady, resident in Covington, Ky., wife of a gentleman-Burlington Free Press, Nov. 22. of the same character, was distributing a lot of fine apples, of which she had a half-bushel basket full, to the soldiers encamped back of that city, she gave an apple to one soldier of a group who exhibited peculiar emotion as she handed it to him, observing at the

ASTOR AND WADSWORTH.-John Jacob Astor is It appointed to a position on Gen. McClellan's staff. is a curious fact that while Lieutenant-Colonel Astor represents the largest capital in the United States,

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