Part 6

_July 2d._ A little girl, 12 years of age, was arrested to-day for wearing an apron like the Confederate Dag. The surgeon of this prison is known as “Cyclops” among us. A week ago “Cyclops” said “our forces are about now in Richmond—the Anaconda is gradually coiling around the last vital point of the rebellious monster.” What does he think now? The “New York Times” acknowledges the loss of upwards of twenty pieces of artillery in one fight. The Yankee papers a week ago reported General Thomas C. Hindman, of Arkansas, as certainly dead.

In yesterday’s paper is the following telegram:—“Advices from Arkansas are to the effect that General Hindman, with some five thousand rebels was in the immediate vicinity of the St. Charles,” and that Colonel Fitch had abandoned the forts, spiking the guns. The situation of General Curtis is said to be critical, he being unable to obtain supplies, and his army having been on half rations for a week:

THE FATE OF RICHMOND.

We expected to have been able to announce in our yesterday afternoon’s edition the important fact that Richmond was, in possession of General McClellan’s army. From sources of information which we deemed trustworthy, we, however, believe that the fact was known in this city yesterday afternoon, and also communicated by the authorities here to Washington, but for reasons no doubt satisfactory, an official recognition of the fact was withheld by the War Department. Our theory of the case is this: Although the city is in our power or possession, yet the Rebel army is still in arms, but is so situated that it can neither escape from the coils of the anaconda with which McClellan enfolds it, nor has it the means of obtaining supplies; neither can it attack our forces, who hold the possession of the bridges over the Chickahominy, which are controlled by our heavy artillery, and there is no other means of access to McMillan, it being impossible for the Rebels to get through the marshes adjacent to the river. The result must be that the Rebels must surrender or starve, as they can neither fight or skedaddle. They are in a _fix_.

This, as before remarked, is our theory of the matter, and the government withholds the official intelligence of the taking of Richmond, until it can accompany it with the additional gratifying announcement, which probably they may be able to make in time to send to England by the steamer which sails to-day, of the capture not only of Richmond, but of the entire Rebel army. For giving this _opinion_, we hope we may not be called upon to keep our neighbor company at Fort McHenry.—_Baltimore Clipper, July 2._

_July 3d._ Parson Brownlow, of Tennessee, delivered a speech last night at Ford’s Atheneum, in this city, to a large audience. The meeting closed with lusty cheers for the Parson, State of Tennessee, and the Union:

_Extracts from Northern papers._

FUGITIVE SLAVE CASE IN ALEXANDRIA.

We take the following particulars of a slave case in Alexandria, Virginia, from the News of June 24:

John Hunter, a citizen of Prince George county, in the State of Maryland, applied to Lewis McKenzie, a justice of the peace of Alexandria county, Virginia, for a warrant to arrest certain slaves of his, supposed to be in this city. Having taken and subscribed the following oath, required before the magistrate would grant a warrant:

_State of Virginia, Alexandria County:_ I, John Hunter, of the county of Prince George, in the State of Maryland, do solemnly swear that I am a true and loyal citizen of the United States, and that I will support the constitution thereof as the supreme law of the land; and that I will, to the extent of my abilities, uphold and maintain it. I will, to the utmost of my power, give information of every danger which may threaten it, so help me God.

JOHN HUNTER.

Sworn to before me this 21st day of June, 1862.

LEWIS McKENZIE, _J. P._

A warrant was accordingly granted, and one of Mr. Hunter’s negroes, on Saturday last, was apprehended, and the officers were conveying him to the ferry boat for transportation home, there being no doubt of its being Mr. Hunter’s servant from the evidence of parties present, satisfactory to the magistrate. Not pleased with the summary proceedings of the parties executing the warrant, the negro refused to accompany them, when they essayed gentle “coercion.” This not meeting with the approbation of the negro, was creating some excitement, and promised to lead to serious difficulty, when some of the provost guard interposed and carried the case before Colonel Gregory, the Provost Marshal, who retained possession of the negro until the 23d, when a decision was rendered. After receiving the statements of Mayor McKenzie, Mr. Hunter and his friends, the negro and others, in connection with the report of the guard, the Marshal refused to acknowledge the claim of Mr. Hunter, and released the man, stating that he would not permit the arrest of any fugitive from labor while in command of this post, thus setting aside the lawful authority of the State of Virginia. The case will be reported to the President at an early day.

A SECESSIONIST.

A friend in this city tells us of a little boy, a neighbor of his, who took great pleasure in a beautiful play-ball painted with our own national colors. While enjoying his play on the sidewalk recently, the ball accidentally rolled into a neighbor’s basement. It was returned to him after a while, with the red, white and blue washed off, and a Secesh flag painted on instead. Comment is needless.

* * * * *

A gentleman from Chicago relates a remarkable fact in connection with the Rebel prisoners at Chicago. The Rebel prisoners number about eight thousand, and, of course, there are among them men of intelligence and education, but the great numbers are deplorably ignorant. Colonel Mulligan has these Rebels in charge, and as they have considerable leisure time he has established a Yankee school for their instruction. The educated prisoners were assigned as teachers, and the work is progressing rapidly.

Two discharged members of the fourteenth regiment of regulars, who have just arrived at Syracuse, New York, from Perryville, Maryland, state that about the first of last February the Rebel sympathizers in that town poisoned the wells, from which the men were in the habit of procuring their drinking water, and that, as a consequence, two hundred members of the regiment died, and of the remaining seven hundred, hardly one has recovered his health.

Mr. Wm. P. Wood, superintendent, informed us this evening that the prisoners here will be removed to Fort Delaware on to-morrow.

_July 4th._ Captain Higgins and Lieutenant J. Miller have treated us since our confinement here with comparative kindness, and all the prisoners have become somewhat attached to them on that account. Their conduct towards us has been a pleasing contrast with the uncouth bearing and tyranny in petty things of other officers. The following will explain itself.

At a meeting held this morning, in room No. 3, the following preamble and resolution were unanimously adopted:

“Whereas Captain Benjamin D. Higgins and Lieutenant J. Miller (as officers connected with this prison) have by their gentlemanly, courteous and soldierly bearing towards us, won our esteem and respect,

_Therefore, be it Resolved_, That it is with regret that we part with these gentlemen, inasmuch as they have exemplified that urbane and respectful bearing, even in our present relations with each other, is not incompatible with the faithful discharge of a soldier’s duty.”

Captain E. Pliny Bryan was called to the chair, and a committee of three was appointed to hand these resolutions to the above named.

About half past 10, A.M., we started in charge of Lieutenant J. B. Mix, of “Scott’s nine hundred,” for the depot, where we were detained an hour. United States soldiers and citizens crowded around the cars. Beyond the expressions of a few intoxicated men, nothing insulting was said to us, but great anxiety was manifested to converse with us, which, in every instance, was prohibited. Several persons, however, stepped up under the windows of the cars, covered their mouths with their hands, and said in an under tone, “I’m Secesh, and sympathize with you.” One, while he did this, dropped two gold dollars into the hands of a prisoner, enquiring audibly, “How are you, brother Jim?” A lady requested the officer in charge to allow her to speak to her _cousin_, and she was permitted to do so. Her cousin, Lieutenant S., then received from her a card, on which was written the name of a lady he had known in Charleston, South Carolina, In return he handed her a card, on which was a likeness of President Davis, and she seemed delighted at the exchange. On the departure of the train from the depot, the prisoners vociferously cheered for Davis, Beauregard and Johnston. Arrived in Baltimore at 2, P.M. As we moved along the streets in the same cars, drawn by horses to the Philadelphia depot, the prisoners sang Southern songs, and cheered for Davis, while men and women, concealed behind obstacles and windows, were seen to waive handkerchiefs at them. Notwithstanding the array of bayonets and swords, down-trodden Southern feeling was thus made apparent. At this time a Confederate Lieutenant hallooed for Beauregard, and a Yankee officer replied, “D—n Beauregard, I wish he was in h—ll, where you ought to be.” As we advanced towards Philadelphia, we found the Secession feeling growing less. Passing a small town in Pennsylvania, a “Louisiana Tiger” cried out, “Hurrah for Jackson,” and a woman replied, “Go to h—ll.” At Havre de Grace, in Maryland, the “tiger” above mentioned, displayed a small Confederate flag, whereupon an overgrown inebriated fellow said, “I can whip the man that showed that flag if the officer in charge will let us have a fair open fight.” The officer took the flag away from the “tiger,” and told the man, in a joke, that he might “have a fair open fight,” but the man, I suppose, thought discretion the better part of valor, for he declined to accept the privilege. Lieutenant J. B. Mix, the officer in charge, proved himself a very clever gentleman, and did all he could to make us as comfortable as circumstances would allow. We arrived in Philadelphia at 12 o’clock at night. As late as it was a small crowd had collected at the depot, and there was a great disposition manifested to talk with us—some few seemed inclined to talk rationally and calmly, while others made this an occasion to vent their venom freely, which latter invariably recoiled upon them with “good measure pressed down, heaped up and running over.” Had not an officer interfered, they would have torn a Louisianian “to pieces,” as they said. An old woman remarked, “My husband and three sons are before Richmond, and I wish I had more to send. I wish they would let me kill them rebels. Why don’t they kill ’em?” Many loose remarks were made, such as “they have no free schools, and are so ignorant,” “they want a monarchy,” &c., &c. Lieutenant Mix went to get us something to eat at a restaurant, but was refused, the keeper saying he would sell nothing to rebels, and he hoped we would starve. Some of the people said that the “Southerners” treated their prisoners very badly, which was stoutly denied. Mr. Olden from Aldie, Virginia, told them that he was kept four days handcuffed without anything to eat, and the crowd agreed that “he ought not to have had anything to eat—any man that would turn traitor to his country.” In a conversation with a Federal officer the latter was frank enough to say that he wished we had peace; he was tired of the war; would resign if he could do so without disgrace; that if the North backed down now, they would be a ruined and a disgraced people, and that they were fighting for their very existence.

At 5 o’clock we left Philadelphia for Fort Delaware, which is forty miles south-west of “the city of brotherly love?” We were evidently brought this circuitous rout for display—to lead the people to believe we were prisoners from Richmond. Arrived at the fort at 10 o’clock, A.M.—a gloomy looking place. At the west end of the fort the roll was called immediately on our entrance in the yard. As the names were called the officers were ordered inside the fort, and the non-commissioned officers and privates to an enclosure like a sheep-pen. Captain A. Gibson, commandant of the post, seemed to endeavor by harsh expressions and manner to intimidate the prisoners. Assuming us much ferocity as possible, he would say, “Why don’t you answer to your name, sir?” “Speak louder, walk along faster,” &c., &c.; but he always had thrust back at him as harsh language as he could adopt. A Louisianian, after replying “here,” in a stentorian voice, as his name was called, _gave old Gibson a look of vengeance_, and the latter remarked, “A damned impudent scoundrel.” Lieutenant Mix, (the officer in charge of the prisoners from Washington to Fort Delaware,) told us that the train in which we came to Philadelphia was expected at the latter place four hours earlier than it arrived, and that had we been up to time, we would probably have been mobbed, for about two thousand had assembled and waited an hour at the depot for us for that purpose. As it was, two of the prisoners were struck with rocks, one on the head, and the other in the side.

_July 6th._ Our monotonous confinement furnishes but little worthy of record, but memory leads me back to our experience at the Philadelphia depot; and I laugh at what was said and done by the bitter and misguided fanatics. An old woman came up under the car window and asked Captain S. very seriously, “When will this war end?” to which the Captain replied, “Madam, when all of your troops are withdrawn from our soil”—a man who standing by, who had been boring us for some time with his Bombastes Furiosi talk, said to Captain S., “I wish I had you out of the cars, I’d take your heart out”—this same man had the impudence to try to draw Major H. into conversation with him, but the latter told him, “I want nothing to say to you—you insulted my friend, and you might insult me,” and the man walked off like a dog with his tail between his legs. A pleasant-looking fellow, with a seemingly inexhaustible flask of whiskey in his pocket, and good humor issuing from every pore of his jolly countenance, was passing from car to car, (while we were waiting so long at the Philadelphia depot,) and discussing with evident satisfaction to himself the great question which divided the late “United States.” At length we all became heartily tired of his witticisms, and one after another “poohed” and “pshawed” at him. At this he became very angry, and began to use Billingsgate language pretty freely, but throughout his antics he came off No. 2.

_July 7th._ The New York Herald attempts to prove Horace Greeley a Secessionist, by quotations from his own paper:

_From the Tribune of November 9, 1860._

If the cotton States shall become satisfied that they can do better out of the Union than in it, we insist on letting them go in peace. The right to secede may be a revolutionary one; but it exists, nevertheless. * * * We must ever resist the right of any State to remain in the Union and nullify or defy the laws thereof. To withdraw from the Union is quite another matter; and whenever a considerable section of our Union shall deliberately resolve to go out, we shall resist all coercive measures designed to keep it in. We hope never to live in a Republic whereof one section is pinned to another by bayonets.

_From the Tribune of November 26, 1860._

If the cotton States unitedly and earnestly wish to withdraw peacefully from the Union, we think they should and would be allowed to do so. Any attempt to compel them by force to remain would be contrary to the principles enunciated in the immortal Declaration of Independence, contrary to the fundamental ideas on which human liberty is based.

_From the Tribune of December 17, 1860._

If it (the Declaration of Independence) justified the secession from the British empire of three millions of colonists in 1776, we do not see why it would not justify the secession of five millions of Southerners from the Union in 1861.

_From the Tribune of February 23, 1861._

We have repeatedly said, and we once more insist, that the great principle embodied by Jefferson in the Declaration of American Independence, that governments derive their just power from the consent of the governed, is sound and just; and that, if the slave States, the cotton States, or the Gulf States only, choose to form an independent nation, they have a clear moral right to do so. * * * * Whenever it shall be clear that the great body of the Southern people have become conclusively alienated from the Union, and anxious to escape from it, we shall do our best to forward their views.

_July 18th._ There is said to be about 3,000 prisoners confined at this fort, the majority of which are in a pen, which is called “the barracks,” and which I shall more fully describe hereafter. The men sleep two on a board, about three feet wide—are compelled to cut their hair short—are marched and countermarched about an hour every day—felt all over by the Dutch sergeants, and made to bring water and do other work about the garrison. They have “coffee-water” sometimes, and a piece of bread six by three inches, and a small piece of meat scarcely fit for a dog to eat, for breakfast; “soup-water” for dinner, with bread about the dimensions above, and “coffee-water” for supper, and bread same as at breakfast and dinner. They drink river water, which is really offensive to the smell. The privy they use is intolerably filthy, and accommodation for three thousand is not large enough for three hundred.

A Yankee soldier who attempted to escape from this fort, where he was on duty, was sentenced to carry the ball and chain four hours every day for five months! He has been carrying it three months now. I see the poor fellow every day from my window, and he appears to be in much suffering. The following, in regard to this fort, is from the “Philadelphia Enquirer.”

FORT DELAWARE AND THE REBEL PRISONERS.—There are, at the present time, 3,181 rebel prisoners confined at Fort Delaware, and about 3,000 more expected at the end of next week. The steamer Baltic arrived at the Fort on Saturday last, having on board 1,200 prisoners, who were transferred from Governor’s Island, New York, to Fort Delaware; they comprise the whole number quartered at Governor’s Island. The rumors of an outbreak recently of the prisoners at the Fort have no foundation in fact. While it is conceded by officers of the Fort that a determined attempt at capture would create trouble, no ultimate good to the rebels could possibly result.

The prisoners, with the exception of the rebel officers, who are about one hundred in number, and who have quarters inside the Fort, occupy barracks on the upper end of the Island. These barracks are commanded by heavy casemate guns in the Fort, and also by shotted field pieces. A strong guard also patrols the Island at all hours, to prevent any attempt at escape. The barracks erected are capable of accommodating 2,000 men. Other barracks are in course of erection, intended to accommodate 5,000 more. The guard consists of about 250 men, comprising portions of three batteries.

Recruiting is going on in this city to fill these batteries to the required standard, and with flattering success. Lieutenant Wm. G. Rohrman is employed in this service, and a considerable number are recruited and sent down daily. The troops are encamped on the meadows near the Fort. One company, numbering about sixty men and about thirty regulars, are stationed inside. A hospital has been built near the barracks for the sick and wounded rebels, and every attention given to them.

_Extracts from proceedings in the United States House of Representatives._

_Mr. Mallory, of Kentucky._ I think the slaves of Southern rebels should be used as our armies advance in all menial service, such as boating and assisting in the fortifications. My reasons against arming them are—1st. That when armed they would be turned against those who had been their masters, and their practice will be an indiscriminate slaughter of men, women and children. 2d. You cannot for your lives make of slaves an army whose services in the field will pay the expense of organizing them. One shot from a cannon would disperse thirty thousand of them.

_Mr. Stevens, of Pennsylvania._ Then they will do injury to the rebels who fight them. I am for employing them against their masters. I suppose the gentleman wants to employ the slaves in a menial service, and after the war return them to their masters under the fugitive slave law. I would raise 100,000 to-morrow. They are not barbarians, and are as much calculated to be humane as any class of people. It is false to say they will not make good soldiers. I would seize every foot of land and dollar of property, and apply them to the army as we go along. I would plant in the South military colonies, and sell the land to soldiers of freedom, holding the heritage of traitors, and building up institutions without the recognition of slavery.

_Mr. Wickliffe, of Kentucky._ It is a miserable policy to muster runaway blacks into service. If twenty million of freemen cannot suppress a rebellion of six millions of white men, let the acknowledgment at once be made.

_July 9th._ On the 4th of July President Davis, dressed in full regimentals, after the ceremony of a mock trial, was hung in effigy in west Philadelphia.

A prisoner, attached to a Virginia regiment, was taken sick last night, and carried from the barracks to the hospital _at 9 o’clock_, _and was buried at 10 o’clock_. Quick work!

I shall have been here a week the day after to-morrow. We are so closely confined that it seems like a month on account of the “weary, lagging hours.” A fellow prisoner says he has been here a month, and he has to write 1862 every day, so as not to forget it, for it appears like 1863.

_July 10th._ One of the modes adopted here, in order to tantalize us, is to tell us we “are to be paroled or exchanged to-morrow.” This once had the effect to fill the prisoners with the roseate hues of hope, but disappointment had so often been the result of such announcements, that we no longer listen to them with credit.

The Yankees certainly do not desire the release of Colonel Corcoran, nor have they ever desired it. His confinement appeals too strongly to the Irish to volunteer, and about this time particularly volunteers are much needed.

_Mr. Fessenden, of Maine_, said in the Senate yesterday, “There is another thing I think a great mistake, and that is the attempt to deceive the people by calling a defeat “a great strategic movement.”” He thought the people should be trusted, and told the whole truth as to what was wanted by the country. Deal with them honestly, and every true Northern heart will respond, deal with enemies as enemies, and friends as friends. It is folly to hesitate to tell the people of this country exactly what the state of things is. He had been amused by seeing a call upon the different Governors for 300,000 troops, which simply meant that the President and Government thought they would want more troops. The enemy knows this, everybody knows it, then why not tell the truth?