June 24th, 1862. Subjoined is a letter from that Southern traitor and unscrupulous scoundrel, “Parson Brownlow,” to the “Philadelphia Enquirer:”
Extracts from Northern papers.
EAST TENNESSEE.
Editor Philadelphia Inquirer:
Sir—I have two letters of recent date, and from reliable sources, giving me news from East Tennessee, which I desire to place you in possession of, and through you the public generally.
The persecutions of the Union men continue, and really increase in severity, The property of all Union men in the Federal States and army was being sold at auction, including furniture, stock, grain, agricultural implements, &c., no attention being paid to the necessities of their families. The Union citizens and soldiers, who are in the prisons of Salisbury, Tuscaloosa and Mobile, are dying rapidly from the effects of tainted meat, rotten food, and starvation. The Rebel authorities seek to dispose of Union men in this way.
The whole country in East Tennessee is filled with guerrilla bands, who are committing all sorts of depredations on Union people, and destroying their property. The Union men in the United States army, at Cumberland Gap, are breathing threatening and slaughter against the despoilers of their homes, the consumers of their substance, and the murderers of their parents and relatives, and nothing but the direct interference of Providence will prevent them from executing their threats. No military discipline will be sufficiently strong to prevent these men from the indiscriminate slaughter of those Secession leaders and soldiers who have done all this mischief.
One of the letters before me is from a Union officer at Cumberland Gap, and is dated June 27th. It gives this information: “Duncan McCall is just over from Knox county, and reports eight thousand Rebel troops at Knoxville, who were going to Atlanta, Georgia, by way of Maryville, distant only sixteen miles from Knoxville. The Secesh citizens had their goods packed up and marked for Atlanta, and were themselves crossing the river at Knoxville. The Rebels had arrested Montgomery Thomburg, Lemuel Johnson, Esquire Galbraith, Oliver p. Temple, John Baxter and others, and sent them to Tuscaloosa. Thomburg and Temple were dead, and the remains of the former had been brought back. Others were lying at the point of death.”
Colonel Thomburg was the commonwealth’s attorney, and visited my bedside the night before I was started out of the bogus Confederacy, upon a pass granted him by the commanding officer. When he took leave of me he held me by the hand, and with tears in his eyes, made this remark: “Brownlow, I am glad you are going out, and I hope you may arrive safe; but God only knows what will become of those of us who remain!”
Colonel Temple was a good lawyer, in comfortable circumstances, and as noble a man as lived in Tennessee. He was a Bell Everett elector for that district in the late election for President. He leaves a wife and one child to mourn his loss. He had been my friend through evil and good report.
Colonel Baxter is a wealthy lawyer, of fine talents, and a citizen of Knoxville. He has been my friend for years, and I sympathize with his wife and ten interesting children. Certainly nothing short of an old fashioned orthodox hell will suit as a place of confinement for the persecutors of these Union men.
July 9, 1862.W. G. BROWNLOW.
Extracts from Northern papers.
THE CONFEDERATE GENERAL JACKSON.
General Jackson was educated at West Point, and was afterwards a professor for fifteen years at the Virginia Military School at Lexington. He is a cousin of the Jackson who was once Lieutenant Governor of Virginia, and of the Jackson who is now the United States District Judge for Western Virginia. The family settled early in that region, and furnished its representative in Congress for about thirty years, commencing with the administration of General Washington. It has become a numerous family in the Valley of Virginia and in Western Virginia, and its members are about equally divided by the present struggle. After his hard fight of last Sunday with General Fremont, in which he was compelled to leave the field, he attacked the next day and drove back an advanced force of two thousand men of the army of General Shields. Such persistency proves that he has the confidence of his troops, and he doubtless deserves it. He has been the fighting hero of the war on the Confederate side.—Washington Republican.
THE REVEALING OF THE GRAVES AT CORINTH.
Suspicions of the contents of some of the graves found in the vicinity of Corinth, caused an investigation and exhuming of the deposits. Neatly made graves, with necessary head and foot boards, bearing the names of colonels and majors were visited, and the loose earth covering them was ordered to be removed, when, on arriving to the depth of four feet, a solid substance was struck, which upon clearing the earth around, was found to be contraband Secesh, in the shape of siege guns. One grave with the head-board designated as “Colonel somebody,” was found to contain a 64 pounder siege gun. “Quite a heavy colonel that.” Others were found, but in what number I have not learned. Some have been found buried in the swamps beyond Corinth.—Correspondent Cincinnati Times.
THE BLACKEST PAGE.
When the truthful historian shall write the history of this sad and unholy civil war, there will be in the volume many pages over which a shadow of blackness will forever rest; but the blackest page will be that which hands down to future generations the record of General Butler’s order in regard to the women of New Orleans. Like the shadow of a great wrong, it will forever darken the fair brow of the Goddess of Liberty. The millions yet unborn will read it with commingled feelings of shame and pity, and doubt our boasted claim to freedom, civilization and Christianity. True, it is but the act of one man, but that man commissioned and paid by his country for the enforcement of the laws and the preservation of society. If the government retains him in commission, it becomes responsible for his acts, and endorses his infamy.
No man respects more than we do the well-earned reputation of the American army:
“It is a school
Where every principle tending to honor
Is taught—if followed;”
but in the name of that distinguished army we solemnly protest against an act which would blight its greenest laurels, and lay its trophies prostrate in the dust. If they war, let it not be done on domestic happiness; if they invade, be their country’s hearths inviolable; let them achieve a triumph wherever their banners fly, but be it not over morals, innocence and virtue.
Let the government remove this stigma from its name by removing General Butler from his command.—Ohio Dayton Empire, June 7.
There is a United States Court at Washington city which makes a business of catching and surrendering persons claimed as fugitive slaves, and refuses to hear evidence that the claimants are traitors. If anybody wants to be taxed for the support of such a court, let him be so taxed; we don’t. How many judicial functionaries, beginning with Chief Justice Roger B. Taney, are taking pay from the United States, while their hearts are with the Southern Confederacy, we cannot say; but we think the number ought to be reduced. Who shall devise the proper mode?—New York Tribune.
June 25th. To-day a lady from Alexandria, Virginia, called to see a prisoner, and the latter remarked to her that he had suffered very much since his confinement from sickness and privation, and the lady replied, “Well, you must bear it manfully, you are doing what you believe to be your duty,” whereupon the Yankee Lieutenant present, whose name is Holmes, told her she “must leave the room, or she would be arrested.” The Rev. Mr. Nourse, heretofore permitted to preach funeral sermons over prisoners who have died here, has been superseded on the charge of uttering Secession sentiments. Having heard every sermon he has preached, I can truthfully record that he has not at any time said anything which could be tortured into “Secession sentiments.” They must have objected to the repetition by Mr. Nourse of the commandments: “Thou shalt not steal,” or “thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s man servant, nor his maid servant,” &c.; for no doubt their guilty consciences caused them to feel pain upon the utterance of these imperative injunctions from Holy Writ, and some one of them were compelled to be present on such an occasion:
Extracts from Northern papers.
FROM THE SHENANDOAH—HOW MATTERS STAND IN THE VALLEY.
Correspondence of the Cincinnati Times.
Winchester, June 18.—At the present writing, I think it is safe, in consideration of the time which must elapse before the publication of my letter, to state that, though I have industriously sought for information, I have yet to find the first officer of any military importance who has any hesitancy in stating that he considers their condition of the most critical character. What renders it the more so at present is the fact that the whereabouts of Jackson is not known. He may be moving on Front Royal to attack Shields, or he may be circumventing the Strasburg Mountain to get in the rear of Fremont. Every precaution is being used that human or military ingenuity can invent, in the way of scouts and videttes, but the troops are limited in number and worn out by their late duties, while the country is extensive and well suited for the purposes of war, to a people who know the windings of every mountain road, and whose spies are like the cattle of Ossian’s hero “on a thousand hills.”
Further than this, Secessia fights its battles in the valleys, in the midst of its friends. The farmer who refuses a particle of food to the Union traveler, although the latter is willing to pay for it, is ever ready to turn out all he has to the Confederate army—first, because he really sympathizes with the Confederate soldiers, and, secondly, because he fears to withhold what he is confident they will take whether he is willing or not.
MORE FORCES WANTED.
As I have said in almost every letter I have ever written you from this quarter, the general cry is “We want more troops in the Valley.” An application, as I stated, has been made to Secretary Stanton, and I understand it is now to be backed by the urgent persuasions of two other members of the Cabinet, who are convinced of the insufficiency of the force in this section.
A small portion of the force here has been sent to Hagerstown, Williamsport and Martinsburg, to guard those points, and I think the movement is a very wise one. The 84th Ohio Regiment, one of the new Regiments, has arrived at Cumberland, and it will probably take the place of some of those more experienced, and act as post garrisons, while those heretofore engaged in that duty will be called to more active service.
Rumors are abroad as to the expected arrival of a portion of General Halleck’s force in this quarter, but I can see no reliable foundation for the rumor.
FRONT ROYAL OR MOUNT JACKSON?
Public opinion, and by that I mean military speculation, is just now strongly divided as to whether that arch traitor, Jackson, is still in front of Mount Jackson, or is wending his way toward a meditated attack on General Shields, at Front Royal. I am somewhat inclined to think it is toward the latter. As I am now situated, I am an “intermediate circumstance” between the two points.
WHERE WILL JACKSON STRIKE?—TROUBLE AMONG THE FEDERAL TROOPS.
Middletown, June 19.—Everything to-day bears the appearance of a “muss,” to come off somewhere in this region almost immediately. Whether this will be on the Mount Jackson road, or at Front Royal, as I stated in my former letter, it is impossible for me yet to say, but I listen for the tidings hourly which shall announce the opening of the battle. Matters point most directly to Front Royal, yet with the acuteness of General Jackson to manage Secession affairs, it may break upon us from some of the mountain defiles either beyond that point or over on the Mount Jackson road, or just as likely in the immediate vicinity of this place, or, again, between here and Winchester, in our rear.
With the condition of feeling that I know to exist among both officers and men on the National side, I have no hesitation to state that after a hotly contested field, the result of the battle will be another grand “skedaddle.” The knowledge that Jackson has been heavily reinforced is patent to every private in our ranks, and that consequence must ensue which attends as a certainty upon the efforts of men who fight under discouraging circumstances. The retreat of June 2d is still fresh in their minds, and the failure of the War Department to properly reinforce the division in the Mountain Department, I believe, will be productive of results greatly to be deplored. I may be mistaken in my conjectures, but I give you my impressions, and leave to time to prove their correctness or falsity. The electric wire may have notified you before this reaches you, relative to what I say. I repeat, something is on the eve of being accomplished, and only a change produced by unforeseen circumstances will prevent its accomplishment.
ARRIVAL OF CONFEDERATE PRISONERS AT PHILADELPHIA.
From the Philadelphia Inquirer, June 25.
Four hundred and ninety Confederate prisoners, taken recently at various points in the Shenandoah Valley, arrived from Harrisburg last evening, and at half past eight reached Washington street wharf, whence they left the cars for the steamboat Major Reybold, which transported them to Fort Delaware. Of these men four hundred and thirty-four arrived in Harrisburg on the 16th instant, and fifty-eight the day before yesterday, making in all four hundred and ninety-two, of whom two still remain sick in Harrisburg. They had among them but one officer, Major Davis, of the 2d Virginia Infantry, who had been at the battle of Bull Run, and in all the engagements since fought in the valley, under Jackson.
He is a native of Jefferson county, Virginia, is very prepossessing and gentlemanly, and about 35 years of age. His coat was of fine grey cloth, with abundant gold lace on the arms and collar; his pantaloons were of light army blue, and his cap of the same color. The prisoners were under charge of a guard, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Thompson, of the 115th Pennsylvania Regiment, and appeared in good spirits, taking their present and anticipated confinement with great philosophy. Many were from Northern States, and not a few from Massachusetts. Irishmen were by no means unfrequent among them.
The account given by Northern men and foreigners generally was, that they were pressed into the service, or enlisted through want of employment and the means of living. The whole gang were exceedingly sun-burnt and rugged through exposure and incessant marching, and in an inconceivably filthy state, their clothing being filled with vermin. The prisoners were in sixteen cars, of which nearly all were freight cars. Each of these, on arrival, was surrounded by crowds who entered into conversation with the prisoners. One Confederate was asked if he would take the oath of allegiance, and answered, “I’ll see you —— first.”
Another asked if it was true that McClellan was dead. “You’ll hear about that when he gets into Richmond,” said one of the crowd. “He’d better hurry up, then,” was the reply. “You know he said he was going to be there on the 4th of July, he has only nine days ahead of him.” In answer to the numerous charges of cruelty urged against the Confederates, both towards wounded men and towards prisoners, this was denied as regards the mass of the Confederate army, but it was allowed that individual cases might have been perpetrated by the “Pineys,” or ignorant backwoodsmen of the South. The prisoners claimed that the Confederates were men, as were the Unionists, and would act towards their fellow-creatures fully as well.
THE REBEL ASHBY.
From our own Correspondent.
Baltimore, June 16, 1862.
Turner Ashby belonged to Fauquier county, where his family was influential, if not wealthy. In Washington, Baltimore and Richmond, the Ashbys were well known among people of superior social position, and were everywhere esteemed for their intelligence, courage and honor. But the refinement which seems to have been a characteristic of the same, must have met with an exception in the “Black-Horse” Colonel, who is always described as brusque, stern, soldier-like.
His earliest military experience, beyond the mere soldier-playing of Virginia horsemen, was in command of a company of cavalry, whom he led to Charlestown immediately upon the apparition of John Brown at Harper’s Ferry. It was then and there that Ashby’s “Black-Horse” had their name; his men were mounted on blooded black chargers, and the chargers were mounted by “blooded” white riders—horse and man alike were of the first families. His men were picked for their equestrian accomplishments, and many of their horses were bred and trained on his own plantation. As for himself, his name as a horseman is famous from Washington to Winchester, his repute in this respect being equal to that of the gallant, but reckless Randolph Ridgely, of Baltimore, to the exploits of whose battery in Mexico, Colonel May is mainly indebted for his dragoon reputation.
During the John Brown affair, Ashby scouted the Shenandoah county for negro conspirators, and effectually checked the spirit of servile uprising. He was one of the first to enlist in the Rebellion, and waited in Richmond with a proffer of his services, till the ordinance of Secession was passed. That same day, he hurried to Harper’s Ferry, by way of Washington the “Relay,” and followed by several Virginians, was the first mounted Rebel to rush into that storied little town. It is believed that the movement against Harper’s Ferry was proposed and organized at Richmond by him.
Turner Ashby was a gentle man—so quiet, taciturn, and reticent, as to be thought morose by those who did not know him well. If a Rebel can be pious, he was so. I have heard from two intelligent residents of Harper’s Ferry, that he especially abominated profanity, and when in that place, last fall, he was excited for a moment into damning something, he openly expressed his regret and mortification.
It was certain that he was not ambitious of military honors, for he was twice offered the shoulder-straps of a brigadier general, but declined, on the ground that he had no special military fitness, save for the command of cavalry, composed of men whom he knew, and in a region with which he was familiar. When, finally, he did accept the brigadier’s commission, it was for expediency, and in compliance with urgent appeals.
His younger brother “Dick,” a captain in his own corps, was peculiarly endeared to him by his fine horsemanship, and his personal intrepidity. Dick Ashby, you remember, was killed in a desperate affair with Wallace’s Indiana Zouaves, near Patterson’s Creek, on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. After his horse was killed, and he was shot, he refused quarter, and kicked at our men as he lay on the ground. It is said by all who knew him, that Turner Ashby has been a silent, but a savage, man ever since.
He was about thirty-seven years old, of medium height, weighing, perhaps, 150 pounds, of very dark complexion, with deeply set black eyes, surmounted by shaggy eye-brows, and with a most imposing beard and moustache, covering half of his face, and falling half way down his breast.
He was devoted to General Jackson, and frequently declared that he should be proud to follow him in any character, and for any duty. As for his personal courage, it is enough to say that the very morning General Banks entered Winchester, Ashby went to his headquarters disguised as a market man, and in reply to questions from staff officers, described his Rebel self.
The day before the battle of Winchester, he rode through the streets of that town, with one of his Captains, in Union uniform.
One of the most gallant Colonels in Shields’s command, who has observed Ashby in three engagements, said in a verbal report to Government, a few days ago, that the Black-Horse General had of late become the most reckless man to be found on either side; that he seemed to plunge into all forms of danger with delight, riding wherever the fire was hottest, waving his sword, discharging his pistol at our best officers, and continually inviting hand-to-hand encounters. Our Colonel saw him leap his horse over an abandoned gun, to make such an attack. So peculiar, by its skill and daring, was his horsemanship, that he long ago became a marked man, and General Shields predicted that Ashby would surely be killed before Jackson was driven out of the valley. It was no doubt an intelligent bullet that took him off. A lady at Winchester said to us, “Ashby is a devoted man; this war has well nigh broken his heart.” Altamont.
JESSIE SCOUTS.
When General Fremont took charge of the Mountain Department, he proceeded to follow his notion derived from experience in the Western frontier. He knew that the safety and efficiency of his army in a wild wooded and rugged region, depended upon the accuracy with which he received information of the plans and movements of the enemy.
He at once called around him a set of Western frontiersmen, who had served all through the campaign in Missouri. Some had been in the border wars of Kansas; some had served long years on the plains, hunting the buffalo and the Indian; men accustomed to every form of hardship, thoroughly skilled, not only in the use of the rifle, but drilled in all cunning ways and devices to discover the intentions, position, and strength of a foe. The best of these men were selected and placed in a small organization called the Jessie Scouts.
Their name is taken from General Fremont’s wife, who remained with her husband until his army reached New Creek, Virginia. During her stay she frequently saw these men, and became very popular with them. Hence their present attachment to her. They swear by her, and wear her initials upon their coats, inserted in very modest but coarse style. They are not made prominent or ostentatiously conspicuous. The men—and I have talked with a number of them—seem equally devoted to Fremont himself. Their number when full is twenty-four.
Three of them have recently been taken, and three have been detached for service in Halleck’s Department. Hence they number for some days only eighteen. They have, however, been recruiting up to the full number. One of the recent recruits whom I have seen, is a bold, dashing, fine-looking young man, a son of Brigadier General Kelly, who has been in service in Virginia for more than a year. He, therefore, has had frontier experience enough to qualify him for the undertaking. He certainly possesses the pluck. Doubtless he inherited that. Their Captain, by the way, a most remarkable character in this line of business, is Charles Carpenter, of Kansas. Born in Ohio, he went, at the age of 16, to the border of Missouri. Then (1854.) Kansas was wild and comparatively unsettled. He at once, with the ardor of his character, entered upon a wild, roving life. He has tried his hand at everything—hunting, farming, roaming, fighting Indians, Missouri border ruffians, and occasionally “Jay-hawking.” He was at one time with Montgomery, at another with Jennison, and again with Cleveland. He left the last named, because, as he terms it, “things began to get too heavy even for him; he has yet some ‘bowels of compassion left.’”
At the opening of the war, he was employed by Fremont, and went with him to Springfield, actively scouting during the whole of the “Hundred days.” Before Fremont left St. Louis, he detected, in company with another scout, two men, who had ingeniously connected a wire, over 1,100 feet long, with the regular wire over the North Missouri Road, and took off regularly the despatches sent by Fremont to his officers in North Missouri. Through these men Price obtained information of Fremont’s order to Sturgis to advance to the assistance of Mulligan at Lexington. These two men these scouts were compelled to kill ere they could get possession of the wire. Their bodies were found in the bottom of a neighboring river.
Once he entered Jeff. Thompson’s camp, when he threatened to take Cape Girardeau, and cross the Mississippi River, upon a foray into Illinois. The agreeable time he spent there was luxuriated in a san-insane prison, amusing the men and officers by his curious antics and monkey tricks. For two days he drove a team for Sterling Price, leaving his lines to procure forage, taking care not to return. Taken prisoner with his present Lieutenant, Robb, back of Paducah, they were carried for some distance toward Union City.
At night, they escaped by killing three men of the guard and the proprietor of the house, a violent Secessionist. Taking their horses, and assuming the garb of Confederate soldiers, they passed by Forts Henry and Donelson without the slightest interruption. Robb’s ability to forge passes was of signal use to them in reaching Louisville.
Since he has been in the valley, he has sold a horse suspected of Secession proclivities to a man purchasing horses for Ashby’s Cavalry, and then tolled him and his horses into Fremont’s camp. The purchase money, (consisting of good Confederate notes,) and two horses, were thus restored to the Union, and a candidate for promotion to a permanent residence at Fort Delaware procured.
He is bronzed, so that his neck is black by exposure to the weather and sun. The eye is light blue, and the hair dark, with an inclination to curl. The face bears a youthful appearance, but looks like thirty instead of twenty-five, the real age of Carpenter. He is not above five feet six, and of high, sinewy mould. His weight is certainly not over one hundred and thirty-five. The careless, frank, Western style of manner and address belong to him. Heady for fight, fun or frolic, he is said to have mingled with his dash and boldness a remarkable prudence and caution. These qualities, united to his almost slavish devotion to Fremont, make him and his band invaluable to that commander.
His dress consists of a pair of pantaloons of a dark earthen hue, darker than buckskin. The coat is made of the dark grey material of which frontiersmen’s hunting shirts are mostly made; it is a loose sack, trimmed in the cape and sleeves with fringe, gathered in the back, immediately under the shoulders, in folds or plaits. This is bound at the waist with his pistol belt. His only arm of defence, besides the six-shooter, is a breech-loading rifle, weighing about ten pounds, and good for eight hundred yards. Such is a short outline of the career and appearance of one of the most marked and eccentric characters now in this valley, waging war for the restoration of the Union.—Correspondence Philadelphia Inquirer.
June 26th. Judge Charles Mason, late United States commissioner of patents, called to see me to-day. The Judge will endeavor to have me paroled or exchanged, so he says. From our window we can daily see Yankees looking through opera glasses or telescopes at us, as if we were inhuman curiosities. To burlesque them, the boys hold bottles up to their eyes as if gazing at them.
The following letter from Hon. Charles Sumner, the Massachusetts negro-worshipper, shows the intimate relations, political and social, existing between him and “Abe” Lincoln. “Birds of a feather flock together.” They are two peas from the same pod:
From The New York Tribune, June 26, 1862.
Senate Chamber, June 5, 1862.
My Dear Sir: Your criticism of the President is hasty. I am confident that, if you knew him as I do, you would not make it.
Of course, the President cannot be held responsible for the malfeasances of subordinates, unless adopted, or at least tolerated by him. And I am sure that nothing unjust or ungenerous will be tolerated, much less adopted, by him.
I am happy to let you know that he has no sympathy with Stanly in his absurd wickedness, closing the schools, nor again in his other act of turning our camp into a hunting ground for slaves. He repudiates both—positively. The latter point has occupied much of his thought; and the newspapers have not gone too far in recording his repeated declarations, which I have often heard from his own lips, that slaves finding their way into the national lines are never to be re-enslaved. This is his conviction, expressed without reserve.
Could you have seen the President—as it was my privilege often—while he was considering the great questions on which he has already acted—the invitation to emancipation in the States, emancipation in the District of Columbia, and the acknowledgment of the independence of Hayti and Liberia—even your zeal would have been satisfied, for you would have felt the sincerity of his purpose to do what he could to carry forward the principles of the Declaration of Independence. His whole soul was occupied, especially by the first proposition, which was peculiarly his own. In familiar intercourse with him, I remember nothing more touching than the earnestness and completeness with which he embraced this idea. To his mind it was just and beneficent, while it promised the sure end of slavery. Of course to me, who had already proposed a bridge of gold for the retreating fiend, it was most welcome. Proceeding from the President, it must take its place among the great events of history.
If you are disposed to be impatient at any seeming short-comings, think, I pray you, of what has been done in a brief period, and from the past discern the sure promise of the future. Knowing something of my convictions and of the ardor with which I maintain them, you may perhaps derive some assurance from my confidence. I say to you, therefore, stand by the administration. If need be, help it by word and act, but stand by it and have faith in it.
I wish that you really knew the President, and had heard the artless expression of his convictions on those questions which concern you so deeply. You might perhaps wish that he were less cautious, but you would be grateful that he is so true to all that you have at heart. Believe me, therefore, you are wrong, and I regret it the more because of my desire to see all our friends stand firmly together.
If I write strongly, it is because I feel strongly; for my constant and intimate intercourse with the President, beginning with the 4th of March, not only binds me peculiarly to his administration, but gives me a personal as well as a political interest in seeing that justice is done him.
Believe me, my dear sir, with much regard, ever faithfully yours.
CHARLES SUMNER.
June 27th. Subjoined is an account of the scene in Baltimore on the arrival of the Confederate prisoners taken at Kernstown, near Winchester, March 23d last; also, an article from the “New York Express” on the “Freedom of the press:”
“FREEDOM” OF THE PRESS.
The New York Express of yesterday afternoon indulges in some courageous comments on the new rescript of the Secretary of War, putting further and more onerous restraints upon the publication of intelligence in the newspapers. We subjoin a few extracts:
“What the personal risk is remains to be seen before a court martial selected and created by the party that arrests. It is clear to see, that under such ‘Law,’ or rather suspension of all Law, the business of newspaper publishing, or Journalising, is as perilous as any on earth. Both the Property and the Life of the Journalist are in peril—if he chances to err, in the judgment of the War Department—from which judgment, in the matter of Property, there is no appeal, and from which court martial selected by this War Department, there is no judicial relief, if death be the sentence. Prudence, of course, forbids all comment upon these very extraordinary proceedings, beyond saying that Journalism in this country, under such martial law, must run down to what it is in Constantinople, Rome, or Vienna—that is into mere criticisms upon the opera, or the fine arts, or puffs of court movements.
“What deserves especial reprehension, is—if we may be allowed thus to criticise, with a halter around our necks,—the indulgence given such men as Wendell Phillips, to roam the country, teaching the subversion of the Constitution and the Laws,—while other men, of opposite politics, for exactly the same thing, are incarcerated in Fort Warren, Fort Lafayette, or other prisons, therefor. The partiality, the inequality, the injustice of this mode of treatment are so signal, that we marvel the common sense of the President does not see this wrong of his ministers, and arrest it. Upon all such partialities, and injustice, he should remember, History is making up its record,—and that the stern Muse, which records facts, will hold him responsible for these repeated inequalities of his Ministers.”
The army news,—what there is—the reader cannot be half as well informed of as are the Confederates in Richmond, who now know much better what our army is doing, than the true and loyal people of the United States. Hence, our streets are full of all sorts of gossip, and of all sorts of lies.
“It was yesterday currently reported in Wall street (says the Tribune,) that a dispatch had been received at the Navy Yard, Brooklyn, stating that the Confederate steam battery Merrimac had left Norfolk, and was seen from our vessels in Hampton Roads, just off Craney Island. We learn that the report was wholly unfounded. Doubtless it was set afloat for stock jobbing purposes.”
The reports from the battle about Winchester, on Sunday, and of the skirmishes, the days preceding and succeeding, are yet so obscure as but to increase the anxiety of parties having friends and relatives on that arena. It leaks out through Harrisburg, that the Colonel killed was Colonel Murray, of the 84th Pennsylvania, in consequence of which the Legislature of that State adjourned on Monday—but who are the 14 captains and lieutenants, and the 100 soldiers, none in this quarter know.
Under the new rescript from Washington, or the practical translation of it, that copying army news is as criminal as the original publication of it—it is next to impossible to know what to publish, or what not to publish. For example, we are not exactly sure—that the publication we make of the death of the Pennsylvania Colonel is not a criminal publication of army news—as it does not reach us by the Government wire.
The newspapers in this country are to be printed, it would seem by a fresh rescript from the War Department, on rather more ticklish conditions than exist in any other country, viz:—that of “warning,” “suppression,” or “imprisonment”—because here, the summary court martial is to try offenders, and the execution of a drum-head court is threatened.
Well, when any of our craft come down town in the morning, it would be well to say “adieu” to wife and family,—for it is not at all certain, under this rescript, that one may not be shot under drum-head law before night.
The proper way to put a stop to the publication of war news, is to cut off the mails for a few days—and shut up all the channels of intelligence. But under this rescript, a journalist is completely in the power of what, or what not, may be set down as the publication of army news.
This sort of departmental fulmination, is, to say the least, as much without decorum as without precedent. The offenders should be named, and dealt with—while this is but a fulmination in terrorem.
The above is all very good and sensible, but our cotemporary is really silly enough to quote an obsolete instrument called the Constitution of the United States, about “free speech,” abridging the press, redress of grievances, etc., etc. We must, however, do it the justice to say that it adds:
“But cui bono? Why thus vainly parade Constitutions and the Civil Law? We are struggling—(are we not?—answer, Free Speech Abolitionists!) for the emancipation of four million of Blacks,—but at what cost, Abolitionists? The enslavement of 20,000,000 of whites, are we not?”
It is scarcely invidious, in this connection, to remind our friends of the Express that the independent journals of this city have long since become used to this “gag” business; and we think, so far as the Constitution and personal liberty are concerned, they went out of use about the time of the Merryman habeas corpus case? Did not the Express approve and sanction the action of the President in that case? We do not remember that it ever condemned the suppression of the press in this city. If, therefore, it has itself fallen into the same coils, may we not enjoy its “wry faces” with something of the relish we should those of a physician who is forced to take his own medicine?
We find the following, pertinent to the same subject, in the Boston Post.
The Washington correspondent of the New York Evening Post says:
“Free speech and free press is something which is not yet fully understood by pro-slavery men in this vicinity.”
We should think they might understand “something” about them after reading the report of the Judiciary Committee on the censorship of the Press, as practiced by the Post’s political friends, or by conversing with editors whose papers were denied transportation in the mails, or by conversing with men suspected of having said “something” not agreeable to certain officials, and who have been imprisoned without accusation or trial.
ARRIVAL OF CONFEDERATE PRISONERS—THEY ARE CONSIGNED TO THE CITY JAIL.
VISITORS DENIED ADMISSION.
Shortly before 5 o’clock yesterday afternoon a special train arrived at the Camden Station, from Sandy Hook, near Harper’s Ferry, having on board 236 Confederate prisoners, said to have been captured in and about Winchester, Va., in charge of company B, 4th Ohio regiment, Captain Bourning.
No notice had been given that the prisoners were expected, and the fact was not generally known, but immediately upon the arrival of the train, and in fact before it had fairly entered the depot, the news became circulated, and spread like wildfire. The crowd around the depot rapidly increased, and in a very short time the train was completely surrounded by persons all anxious to catch a glimpse of the strangers; some out of morbid curiosity, but a majority being desirous of grasping them by the hands, or searching among the crowd for some familiar face.
Leaving the depot, they filed into Howard street, and took up the line of march to the quarters provided for them, at the City Hall. As they passed up Howard street, the passers-by thronged the sidewalks and street corners, and the ladies, with that independence which characterizes the Baltimore ladies, waved their handkerchiefs to the prisoners, which was politely acknowledged by them, and many raised their hats and returned the salutation with beaming faces and smiles of heartfelt thanks for the sympathy expressed.
The demand for cakes, apples, refreshments, and everything in the shape of edibles, was astonishing. In a very few minutes the entire stock on hand about the depot was bought up by those assembled, who distributed them freely among the unfortunate soldiers.
A large force of police soon arrived in charge of Marshal James L. McPhail, and the crowd was forced back from the cars to enable them to disembark. They were formed in line two abreast, the Federal soldiers and the police flanking them upon either side. As they passed out of the depot, the multitude, which had increased to several thousand, pressed forward, and shook hands with many of them, expressing sympathy for them in their misfortune.
Many of the dwellings along the route presented a lively appearance, as the windows were occupied by men, women, and children, many of them waving hats and handkerchiefs; others, however, gave vent to their feelings by hooting, hissing, and giving vent to all sorts of disapprobation; some exclaiming, “There’s a specimen of your Southern chivalry;” “Oh, what a set of ragamuffins,” &c. The prisoners looked defiance at them, however, and treated all such, who so expressed themselves, with the utmost contempt.
Passing into Madison street, they proceeded towards the jail, followed by an immense crowd. When near the jail building, a citizen living in the vicinity appeared at his window, with several children, who shouted vociferously for Jeff. Davis, whereupon several of the prisoners turned towards them, and became so excited as to take up the shout, and, despite the presence of the armed guard, cheered for Jeff. Davis with a hearty good will, raising their caps to those in the windows.
The crowd caught the infection, and shouts of “Go it boys; them’s my sentiments;” “We ain’t all Yankees here, nary a time;” “We’re with you if we had a chance;” and similar exclamations were heard. Arriving at the jail gate, the crowd made another rush to get an opportunity to shake hands, but were pressed back, and the prisoners were marched inside the jail building and delivered over to Captain James, who provided them with quarters in the northern corridor of the building.
The outside gate was soon besieged by a large number of people, all claiming the right to enter upon various pretexts. Quite a number did obtain ingress, and conversed freely with the prisoners, who seemed quite communicative and gratified at the attention paid to them.
A majority of them are very young men and are very intelligent. A great many present the appearance of being farmers and laborers, many of whom state that they were only “Home Guards,” and not attached to the regular army, and were captured at their homes, and not in the battle at Winchester. Of this, however, we know nothing, except that the Federals claim them as prisoners of war. They are nearly all from the neighborhood of Staunton, Va. So far as we have been able to learn there are no Baltimoreans among them, as reported. They are a very hardy looking body of men, but rather rough in outward appearance, having doubtless been in active service for several months past. The uniforms, which are of grey, are warm and comfortable.
They were provided last evening with refreshments by the gentlemanly warden of the jail, Captain James, who renders them as comfortable as circumstances will admit.
At an early hour this morning numbers of persons assembled at the jail to obtain an interview, and among them many of the first ladies of the city, who were anxious to relieve their wants, but an order was received to close the gates, and all communication even to the press was denied. We are informed, however, that any packages of clothing or delicacies sent to them will be delivered to them by the authorities. Among the party are eighteen non-commissioned officers, who are very intelligent and gentlemanly, and all of whom seem thoroughly wrapt up heart and soul in the Southern cause.
I am more and more disgusted every day at the very sight of dark blue uniforms—in proportion to my attachment to the South, is my indignant wrath at her enemies. Let us have no terms to make with the hordes and vandals who seek to destroy us by the most unscrupulous and barbarous warfare the world has ever known. Would that I had the power to scatter them like chaff with the breath of my mouth!