ten this letter after weeks of deliberation, and struck across the country, again hoping to interin no sudden burst of enthusiasm.

INCIDENTS OF A FIGHT WITH MOSBY.

cept them.

immediately charged, led by Mosby himself. Lieut. Barker, twice wounded in the leg, continued with his handful of men to contest every inch of the ground, and himself crossed sabres. with Mosby. But numbers told, and several of the Fifth New York were made prisoners. This gallant fight of Lieut. Barker afforded Col. Preston an opportunity to come up with the First Vermont. Lieut. Hazleton was in advance, with about seventy-five men, and charged bravely up the lane, the few boys of the Fifth New York, who were left, joining the Vermonters. Again and again the gun dealt destruction through the ranks, but nothing could check their impetuosity, and the brave fellows rode over the gun, sabring the gunners, and captured the piece. Serg. Carey, of the First Vermont, was shot dead by the side of the gun; his brother, a corporal in the same regiment, although his arm was shattered, struck down the gunner as he applied the match for the last time. Mosby and his men fought desperately to recover the gun, but in vain.

Finding themselves so hotly pressed, the enemy, when near Grapewood Farm, about two miles from Greenwich, took position at the head of a short, narrow lane, with high fences FAIRFAX COURT HOUSE, June 2, 1863. The on either side, placing the howitzer so as to sun glistens on a twelve-pound brass howitzer, command the lane, strongly supported by his which, with its limber, occupies a position di- whole force. The advance of the Fifth New rectly in front of Gen. Stahl's headquarters. York, about twenty-five men, under Lieut. Elmer The story of the gun is this: Made in the year Barker, coming up, the Lieutenant determined to 1859, it was used by the Union troops at Ball's charge the gun, fearing, if he halted, the rebels Bluff, where it fell into the hands of the rebels, would again run away. Gallantly riding up the and since that time has done service in the rebel narrow lane, with almost certain death before army. After Mosby had been whipped several them, these brave men, bravely led by Lieut. times by Stahl's cavalry, this gun was furnished Barker, dashed with a yell towards the gun. him to redeem his laurels. On Friday night last, When within about fifty yards, the rebels opened Mosby, with about one hundred and seventy-five fire with grape upon them. The result was, three men and the howitzer, camped at Greenwich. men were killed and seven wounded. The rebels Early on Saturday they made a hurried march toward the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, which they struck about one and a half miles this side of Catlett's Station. Here they concealed themselves in the woods, placed the howitzer in position, and awaited the arrival of the train from Alexandria, carrying forage and stores to Bealeton. As the cars came opposite the ambuscade, a rail, adroitly displaced, caused the locomotive to run off the track. At this moment a ball from the gun went through the boiler, and another pierced the smoke-stack. The guard upon the train were scared by hearing artillery, and beat a hasty retreat, leaving the train at the disposition of the rebels. Had any resistance been offered, it is, believed that the train could have been saved, and all the rebels captured. As it was, the guerrillas destroyed the cars, ten in number, and then, anticipating a visit from Stahl's cavalry, made off in the direction of Auburn. Meanwhile, Col. Mann, of the Seventh Michigan cavalry, who was in command of the portion of Stahl's cavalry at Bristow, hearing the firing, started with portions of the Fifth New York, First Vermont, and Seventh Michigan, to learn the cause. Taking the precaution to send the Fifth New York, Capt. A. H. Hasbrouck commanding, across the country to Auburn, to intercept the retreat, he followed up the railroad until the sight of the burning train told that portion of the story. Leaving the burning train, Col. Mann followed the track of the retreating foe, and soon heard the sound of cannon towards Greenwich, indicating that Capt. Hasbrouck, with the Fifth New York, had either intercepted or come up with the enemy. As it afterwards proved, they had come upon their rear, and had been fired upon from the howitzer. Owing to the nature of the ground, the Fifth New York was unable to deploy, so as to operate effectively, and the enemy again started on the run, closely followed by Capt. Hasbrouck and his command. Col. Mann pressed on to reach the scene of the firing. Learning the particulars of their escape, he divided his force, sending Lieut.-Col. Preston, with part of the First Vermont cavalry, to reenforce the Fifth New York, and with the balance he

Meanwhile, Col. Preston had charged across the fields upon their flank, and the enemy fled in all directions, taking refuge in the thickets, with which they are so familiar. One party attempted to take away the limber, but it was speedily captured and brought in. The long chase in the hot sun, the desperate fight, and the jaded condition of the horses, prevented further pursuit, which, with the enemy so widely scattered, and with their knowledge of every by-path and thicket, would have been almost fruitless. Capt. B. S. Haskins, an Englishman, and formerly a Captain in the Forty-Fourth royal infantry, who was with Mosby, was so badly wounded that he has since died. Lieut Capman, formerly of the regular army, who was in charge of the gun, was also dangerously wounded and paroled on the field, as he could not be removed. Our loss was four killed and fifteen wounded. The rebels had six killed, twenty wounded, and lost ten prisoners. All the Fifth New York who were taken by the rebels were recaptured.

The result of this fight is more disastrous to the rebels than the previous engagements. The

plied with a French shrug of the shoulder; perhaps a year; so long as the Governor chooses to stay away. I am Governor now, you see, till he comes back!' His notions of freedom of speech and the press he expressed freely, like this:All people zall speak vot dey tink, write vot dey pleazhe, and be free to do any tink dey pleazhe -only dey zall speak and write no treason!'". National Intelligencer.

ONE OF THE ARMY OF MARTYRS.

before Massa Lincoln was President.' 'Did you ever hear of John Brown ? Yes, indeed, sar. There was great times down here when he come to Harper's Ferry. The folks was all skeered to death. They went from all round here to see him hung.' Do you think he was a good man?' Yes, sar, a mighty fine man.'

"All the slaves I have met with talk in much the same way. I could fill pages with similar conversations. It is a false notion that slaves are contented if they are not beaten, and have enough to eat. Liberty is just as sweet to them as it is to us. I can say, from the bottom of my heart, may we never come to any terms with the rebels till this blot of slavery is wiped out. I, for one, would be willing to stay here ten years, and endure any amount of hardship, if at the end I could see America truly free. If the war could only accomplish this object, it seems as if I could say, 'Now let thy servant depart in peace.'

The telegraph announces the death of William Fuller, of Needham, a private in the 18th regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers. The tidings afflicted me much. I knew that he joined the army from deliberate convictions of duty, and with the belief that it was to be a war for freedom; and I earnestly desired that he should live to see the glorious result he anticipated. He was At the close of November, 1861, he wrote: an ardent republican, and worked zealously for "I have been watching the tide of public opinion, Fremont in the campaign of '56. He was a and I rejoice to see that the sentiments of Sumworking man, and the enslavement of working ner, Wilson, and Fremont are fast gaining men excited generous indignation in his breast. ground. Emancipation! Blessed word! I have He was among the first three years' men that prayed for it; I came here to fight for it; I am joined the army. Late in September, 1861, when ready to die for it. When I first came here, they he had been some time in Virginia, he wrote to said I was as bad as a secessionist; and when I me: "I enlisted purely from principle; to do indorsed all Charles Sumner said at Worcester, what I could to save the free institutions of the they told me if I had such views I ought to have country. We are hard at work, making intrench-staid at home. But I stood my ground firmly, and ments and cutting roads through the woods to Munson's Hill. We have to endure many privations and hardships; but these I will not dwell upon. I am willing to sacrifice the comforts of home, and even life itself, if the desired end can be accomplished by this war."

6

spoke the honest convictions of my heart; for I know that Mr. Sumner is right, and that the right will conquer at last. I have sometimes feared it might not be in my day; but I now feel that the tide is setting strongly in the right direction. A great change has been wrought within a few A month later, he wrote: "Before I came months. I feel a stronger interest in the subject here, I was often told that I should not think so than ever, since I have seen the poor slaves and badly of slavery, if I had been in the Slave talked with them. No one that inquires of them States. But I must say I have not yet seen any can have a doubt that they are longing for their beauty in the system. When I do, I will inform freedom. I know that they are expecting us to you. While on picket duty, I often meet with free them, and are ready at a word to help us. slaves, and have opportunities of conversing with We have the power to do it; why do we delay? them. I said to one, who came into camp the The day will come when the Stars and Stripes will other day, How have you been treated, Robert?' wave over a country truly free; that it may come Pretty well, sar.' 'Have you been well fed and soon, is the earnest prayer of a poor soldier." clothed?' Pretty well, till dis year. Massa In Januaay, 1862, he wrote: "The other day, hab no money to spare dis year.' Were you in going out to the line of our pickets, which is contented? No, sar.' 'You say you were pret-near to the rebels, I passed by a house where a ty well treated, and pretty well supplied with fine-looking colored lad, of seventeen, was holdfood and clothes; why wasn't you contented then?' ing a horse. He told me his master was in the 'Cause I wanted to be free, sar.' But what could you do to support yourself and your wife and children, if you were all free?' His face brightened, and you could see his eyes sparkle, as he replied, I'd hire a little hut, and hab a little garden, and keep a pig and a cow, and I'd work out by the day, and save money. I could save money. I've laid up eight dollars this summer; but if I couldn't lay up a cent, I should like to be free. I should feel better.' 'Can you read and write?' 'No, sar. But massa's mighty_fraid to have us touch a paper; they say Massa Lincoln is going to free all the slaves.' Where did you hear that?' We used to hear massa say so, last fall,

rebel army. He had taken all his money away with him; but his mistress, who was a Union woman, made heaps of money by selling victuals to the United States soldiers, cooked by his mother, who was one of her slaves. He said that his mistress had a pass to go to the line of our pickets whenever she liked, and that she wanted to take him with her, to work for a man near our outposts. I advised him not to go, lest it should prove a trap. When I passed the house a fortnight later, I saw the same lad chopping wood, with a book peeping from his pocket. I asked him what he did with it. He said he wanted very much to learn to read, and that a little boy

rebels! O, it was too painful! But they were all patient —not a murmur or complaint. What a lesson it taught me '!

"Now we have a little rest; and as I sit near the banks of James River, my mind is busy with reflections concerning the last five months. I need not speak of the great sacrifices of life and property, of the recent bloody battles and the defeat of our army: you know it all. The thought ever present to my mind is, What have we accomplished by all our toil, and hardship, suffering, the nation even so strong as it was five months ago? What are our prospects for the future? The men are disheartened. It must be confessed that something is wrong somewhere. Who is responsible for this defeat? The people ought to know. The poor soldiers ought to know. Let the truth be made known!

of six years was teaching him. What a picture it would make - that poor slave learning his letters of a little child six years old! I wish I were an artist, that I might paint it. In the course of our short conversation, the lad told me he had found out why his mistress wanted him to go to our outposts to work for a man. She and her husband had agreed upon a meeting near the lines, and he wanted to take this young slave to work for the rebel army. So much for this woman's pretended Union sentiments! The trouble is, too much confidence is placed in the loyal pro-and death? Is freedom any nearer at hand? Is fessions of these people. I am not surprised that you are sometimes despondent concerning the prospects of the country. I am also. O, what a chance is offered us to make this a really free country- -a fitting home for the oppressed of all nations! Will this glorious opportunity be lost? If so, who will be accountable? It surely will not be the poor soldiers, who, at their country's call, have left home and families-all that was near and dear to them. I have taken some pains to find out the sentiments of those around me, and, almost to a man, they say we can never have permanent peace till slavery is abolished. Here are two hundred thousand men ready to go forth, at the word, to victory or death, and I believe they are generally desirous to see, Freedom to All, inscribed upon their banners. I will not believe that the glorious opportunity is to slip by us. Surely God will not permit it. He hears the prayers of the poor slaves, and of those who have been working and praying for them for years. I still pray on, and hope on. I want to do much; but how can I do more than I am doing? I must perform my duty, and wait for the wheels of Government to move. They seem to move so slowly, that I long to put my shoulder to the wheels and push them along.

"From appearances, I judge we shall have a battle soon. When the time for action comes I shall try to do my duty, God helping me. I have written my views to you fully, that if it should be my lot to fall in battle, you may know with what feelings I go into the conflict. The extermination of slavery, and freedom for all, through the whole length and breadth of the land, is the idea that nerves my arm. May God give me strength! May victory be ours! And through our efforts may the millions now in bondage be able to proclaim to the world. Once we were Slaves, but now we are all Free Men!"

"It is my firm conviction that if President Lincoln had proclaimed emancipation at the beginning of the war, the end would be much nearer than it now is, and there would have been far less expenditure of blood and treasure. Emancipation is a strong word, but it must come to that before we can have peace. I know I am not competent to advise the President; but these are my honest convictions, confirmed day by day, the more I see of this accursed system of slavery, which is the cause of all our trouble. I am teaching some slaves in our camp; that is, they were slaves, but I pray to God they may never be so again."

The next I heard from Mr. Fuller was that he was wounded in the last battle at Bull Run. In answer to my inquiries, he informed me, by another hand, that he had been badly wounded in the shoulder, but was doing well. He added, "My consolation is, that I have done what I could."

A week afterwards, they told he was dead. I thought of him as I last saw him, a healthy, young man, full of life and hope. He had few advantages for education in his youth, but his remarks evinced good intelligence and a generous heart. He left a wife and young children and went into the army, not from the mere contagion of public excitement, but from convictions of duty, after deliberate reflection.

He was "only a private;" his name is unknown to fame; but I honor his memory, as a brave man, a true patriot, and, better still, a friend to the whole human race, of all nations and colors. It fills my soul with sadness to think of the last words he wrote to me: Something is wrong, somewhere. The poor soldiers ought to know."

66

The expected battle was indefinitely postponed, as we all know; and the soldiers waited patiently for the slow wheels to move. The last of July, 1862, six months later, after the seven days' battle before Richmond, followed by a retreat of the United States army, Mr. Fuller wrote: "We Alas, thousands of poor, weary soldiers have have been so hurried that I have had no time to doubtless gazed on the rivers and hills of Vircollect my thoughts until now. I was at Savage's ginia, while they asked themselves, despondingly, Station on Saturday, after the fight at Gaines'"What has been accomplished by all our privaMill. All day I assisted in the care of the wounded, some two thousand in number. May I never see such dreadful sights again! And to think they had to be left to the mercy of the

tions, toils and sufferings? Thousands of brave
young souls have passed away with heroic patience,
saying, "My consolation is, that I have done what
I could."
L. MARIA CHILD.