How the Flag Became Old Glory Part 12

"Once more in Glory's van with me!"

Virginia cried to Tennessee; "We two together, come what may, Shall stand upon these works today!"

(The reddest day in history.)

Brave Tennessee! In reckless way Virginia heard her comrade say: "Close round this rent and riddled rag!"

What time she set her battle-flag Amid the guns of Doubleday.

But who shall break the guards that wait Before the awful face of Fate?

The tattered standards of the South Were shriveled at the cannon's mouth, And all her hopes were desolate.

In vain the Tennesseean set His breast against the bayonet; In vain Virginia charged and raged, A tigress in her wrath uncaged, Till all the hill was red and wet.

Above the bayonets, mixed and crossed, Men saw a gray, gigantic ghost Receding through the battle-cloud, And heard across the tempest loud The death-cry of a nation lost!

The brave went down! Without disgrace They leaped to Ruin's red embrace; They only heard Fame's thunders wake, And saw the dazzling sun-burst break In smiles on Glory's b.l.o.o.d.y face!

They fell, who lifted up a hand And bade the sun in heaven to stand; They smote and fell, who set the bars Against the progress of the stars, And stayed the march of Motherland!

They stood, who saw the future come On through the fight's delirium; They smote and stood, who held the hope Of nations on that slippery slope Amid the cheers of Christendom.

G.o.d lives! He forged the iron will That clutched and held the trembling hill!

G.o.d lives and reigns! He built and lent The heights for freedom's battlement Where floats her flag in triumph still!

Fold up the banners! Smelt the guns!

Love rules. Her gentler purpose runs.

A mighty mother turns in tears The pages of her battle years, Lamenting all her fallen sons!

WILL HENRY THOMPSON.

UNITED

ALL day it shook the land--grim battle's thunder tread; And fields at morning green, at eve are trampled red.

But now, on the stricken scene, twilight and quiet fall; Only, from hill to hill, night's tremulous voices call; And comes from far along, where camp fires warning burn, The dread, hushed sound which tells of morning's sad return.

Timidly nature awakens; the stars come out overhead, And a flood of moonlight breaks like a voiceless prayer for the dead.

And steals the blessed wind, like Odin's fairest daughter, In viewless ministry, over the fields of slaughter; Soothing the smitten life, easing the pang of death, And bearing away on high the pa.s.sing warrior's breath.

Two youthful forms are lying apart from the thickest fray, The one in Northern blue, the other in Southern gray.

Around his lifeless foeman the arms of each are pressed, And the head of one is pillowed upon the other's breast.

As if two loving brothers, wearied with work and play, Had fallen asleep together, at close of the summer day.

Foemen were they, and brothers?--Again the battle's din, With its sullen, cruel answer, from far away breaks in.

BENJAMIN SLEDD.

OLD HEART OF OAK

TO the Navy is ascribed the larger shares in the Civil War, of overcoming the prowess of the South. "The blockade sapped the industrial strength of the Confederacy."

A powerful factor in this blockade was David G. Farragut. Farragut was a Southerner by birth--a Tennessean--and fought, as it were, against his own hearthstone. Yet, when it is considered that from early youth he was in the marine service of the government and by arms upheld the national flag, and when it is remembered with what reverence the seaman regards the flag under which he serves, his choice is not surprising.

Scenes wherein men fought and died for the Stars and Stripes and often with their dying breath expressing adoration of the nation's emblem were common experiences of his life.

In his memoirs is related a pathetic story of a youth's death from accidental shooting. "Put me in the boat," implored he of his comrades, "that I may die under my country's flag." Another, a young Scotchman, who had a leg cut off in battle, cried out mournfully, "I can no longer be of use to the flag of my adoption," and threw himself overboard.

The necessity of choosing between the North and the South brought Farragut many sleepless nights and forced him between the fires of censure from the South and doubt of his fealty from the North, as it was recognized that the Southern man, as a rule, felt that his first allegiance was due to his State.

When he was but a lad of seven years, Farragut lost his mother and was adopted by his father's friend, that fighting old Commodore David Porter, who was destined to raise both his adopted and his own son to become admirals in the United States Navy.

For little Dave Farragut the sea had always a wonderful fascination, and at the age of twelve he was made a mids.h.i.+pman on the _Ess.e.x_, a wars.h.i.+p of 1812. The _Ess.e.x_ one day captured a whaling vessel, and Captain Porter placed David in charge to steer her across the Pacific. The captain of the whaler, when clear of the _Ess.e.x_, thought to regain his vessel from the boy, by countermanding his orders. He threatened to shoot any sailor who dared to disobey him. Right here, the mettle that was to make Farragut the head of the American navy and the idol of the American people manifested itself. He repeated his order at first given; and when the mutinous captain appeared from below decks where he had gone for his pistols, he was told by the youthful commander that he would have to stay below or be thrown overboard. He chose the former.

To this same dauntless spirit, the Federal government owed the blockade of the lower Mississippi and the closing of the ports of Mobile Bay, that inflicted such injuries upon the Confederacy as to hasten the end of the war. "With ports closed," says an authority, "the Southern armies were reduced to a pitiful misery, the long endurance of which makes a n.o.ble chapter in heroism."

The lower Mississippi was controlled by the Confederates. Possession of the river and the capture of New Orleans could be accomplished only by running the forts situated below the city some seventy miles. To run the forts with wooden vessels and escape destruction from the armed vessels of the Confederacy in the Mississippi was a hazardous undertaking.

Farragut believed he could do this. In December, 1861, he wrote to a friend: "Keep your lips closed and burn my letters. Perfect silence is the first injunction of the Secretary. I am to have a _flag_ in the gulf, and the rest depends upon myself."

In March he again wrote, "I have now attained what I have been looking for all my life--a _flag_--and having attained it, all that is necessary to complete the scene is a victory." The victory he was soon to have.

At two o'clock the morning of April 24, 1862, the signal for the start for the forts was given. In a few moments the thunderous roar of batteries and guns broke upon the air. The river became a ma.s.s of writhing flame.

"The pa.s.sing of Forts Jackson and St. Phillips was one of the most awful sights and events I ever saw or expect to experience," says Farragut.

Rafts of cotton were set on fire by the Confederates and came down the river, scattering disaster as they came. One of these caught the _Hartford_, Farragut's flags.h.i.+p, and set it on fire. So high rose the flames that even the courageous commander was for the moment daunted and exclaimed, "My G.o.d! is this to end this way!" By the expeditious use of the hose the flames were controlled.

The strong barriers across the river were broken. By repeated and desperate efforts the Confederate boats were sunk or disabled. The levee at New Orleans was gained. The Crescent City was taken.

Thus was accomplished a feat in naval warfare reckoned without a parallel in naval history, except in that of twenty-four months later in Mobile Bay. In compliment to his exploit the rank of rear admiral was conferred upon Farragut. Of the fleet, as subordinate officers, were Dewey and Schley, a future admiral and a rear-admiral.

To his home, the victorious commander addressed the following letter:--

"My dearest Wife and Boy.

"I am so agitated I can scarcely write, and I shall only tell you that it has pleased Almighty G.o.d to preserve my life through a fire such as the world has scarcely known."

When the s.h.i.+ps lay safely at the levee with but one of the squadron lost, Farragut by note requested the mayor of New Orleans to remove the Confederate flag and to surrender the city formally. In curt terms the doughty mayor refused to do so, stating there was not in the city of New Orleans a man who would take down that flag. Then ensued a most unique correspondence between the two, through which Farragut made himself misunderstood to the extent that it was rumored that it was his intention to turn the guns on the city. At the expiration of forty-eight hours, however, an officer of the fleet removed the offending flag and hoisted the Stars and Stripes over the city hall.

To injure purposely the defenseless, as in turning the guns on the city, was not in keeping with the nature of David Farragut as revealed in history. Power combined with gentleness were the marked traits of his character. This gentleness had its finest reflex in his delicate attentions to his invalid wife. In the presence of her continuous suffering his warrior nature was laid aside, and his chivalric kindness shone forth in acts of rare devotion and tender care.

When he was asked one day, as to his feelings during a battle in seeing men fall writhing upon every side, he answered, "I thought of nothing but the working of the guns; but after the battle, when I saw the mangled bodies of my s.h.i.+pmates, dead and dying, groaning and expiring often with the most patriotic sentiments upon their lips, I became faint and sick. My sympathies were all aroused." Markedly noticeable in his letters is the absence of self-elation over his victories. There are, rather, a rejoicing in the advancement of his cause and grat.i.tude to the Almighty for preservation. In this we read anew the lesson of true greatness.

Just prior to entering into the noted action of Mobile Bay, he wrote his son respecting his views of duty and death. "He who dies in doing his duty to his country, and at peace with his G.o.d, has played out the drama of life to the best advantage." Shortly after this was penned, the _Hartford_ was steaming into Mobile Bay, under the heavy fire of guns of Fort Morgan and Fort Gaines, in the execution of a naval feat that attracted the attention and admiration of the whole civilized world.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BATTLE OF MOBILE BAY.]