BARBARA FRITCHIE.*

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Round about them orchards sweep,
Apple and peach tree fruited deep,

Fair as the garden of the Lord,
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

On that pleasant morn of the early fall
When Lee marched over the mountain wall,

Over the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick town.

Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,

Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked down and saw not one.

Up rose Barbara Fritchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag the men hauled down;

In her attic-window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.

"Halt!" — the dust-brown ranks stood fast. "Fire!"- out blazed the rifle-blast.

It shivered the window, pane, and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.
Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;

She leaned far out on the window sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.

66

Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
But spare your country's flag," she said.
A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;
The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman's deed and word:
"Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog! March on!" he said.
All day long through Frederick street
Sounded the tread of marching feet.

All day long that free flag tost
Over the heads of the rebel host.

The incident upon which this ballad is founded took place literally as it is told by the poet upon the occupation of Frederick, in Maryland, on the second march northward of the insurgent forces.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell
On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And through the hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm good night.

Barbara Fritchie's work is o'er,
And the rebel rides on his raids no more.
Honor to her! and let a tear
Fall for her sake on Stonewall's bier.
Over Barbara Fritchie's grave,
Flag of Freedom and Union, wave!

Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;

And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town!

INCIDENT OF SHERMAN'S MARCH.-General Howard, in a speech at the celebration of the Christian Commission, related the following little occurrence after the battle of Chattanooga. "My corps, with Sherman's," said he, "had been in pursuit of the enemy three days. We had marched nearly one hundred and twenty miles, and then marched back again. The result of it was, that our clothes and our shoes were worn out; the men had scarcely any blankets to cover them, or pants to wear. They were toiling along on their journey home. Just as we had passed through the mountain ridge, the division commander, thinking that the men had marched far enough for one day, put them comfortably into camp, told them to make their coffee, and then sent word to me to know if they had permission to remain there during the night. It was raining knew the position was an improper one. It was hard, very hard. It was a severe storm. But I not the fulfilment of my orders. I sent back word, No; march forward to Tungston's Station. March!' It was dark-it was cold — it was stormy. The poor men had to be turned out once more, to march. Notwithstanding their labor, notwithstanding their toil and fatigue, they marched. What did they do? how did they take it?' do you ask? They took it as I hope you will take my speech. They went singing, singing, singing along the route noble, patient fellows!-without a complaining word."

PUT IT IN GOLD LETTERS.-A few days after the fight at Skerry, near Charleston, Kanaw ha, Virginia, two or three Yankee officers visited the house of a Mr. Fry, who had been driven from his home by the enemy. A daughter of Mr. Fry saw them approaching through the gate, and confronted them in the porch, with a demand to know their business. They stated they were looking for secession flags, and heard there were some there.

"Brave men," said she in scorn, "take flags on the field of battle-cowards only hunt them at the houses of defenceless women. Mine is in the hands of our brave volunteers; go and take it from them."- Southern paper.

BARBARA FRITCHIE.*

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

UP from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Round about them orchards sweep,
Apple and peach tree fruited deep,

Fair as the garden of the Lord,

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

On that pleasant morn of the early fall
When Lee marched over the mountain wall,

Over the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick town.

Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,

Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked down and saw not one.

Up rose Barbara Fritchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town,

She took up the flag the men hauled down;

In her attic-window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.

"Halt!". the dust-brown ranks stood fast.

"Fire!"-out blazed the rifle-blast.

It shivered the window, pane, and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.
Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;

She leaned far out on the window sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.
"Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
But spare your country's flag," she said.
A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;
The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman's deed and word:
"Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog! March on!" he said.
All day long through Frederick street
Sounded the tread of marching feet.

All day long that free flag tost
Over the heads of the rebel host.

The incident upon which this ballad is founded took place literally as it is told by the poet upon the occupation of Frederick, in Maryland, on the second march northward of the insurgent forces.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell
On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And through the hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm good night.

Barbara Fritchie's work is o'er,
And the rebel rides on his raids no more.

Honor to her! and let a tear
Fall for her sake on Stonewall's bier.

Over Barbara Fritchie's grave,
Flag of Freedom and Union, wave!
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;
And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town!

INCIDENT OF SHERMAN'S MARCH. — General Howard, in a speech at the celebration of the Christian Commission, related the following little occurrence after the battle of Chattanooga. "My corps, with Sherman's," said he, "had been in pursuit of the enemy three days. We had marched nearly one hundred and twenty miles, and then marched back again. The result of it was, that our clothes and our shoes were worn out; the men had scarcely any blankets to cover them, or pants to wear. They were toiling along on their journey home. Just as we had passed through the mountain ridge, the division commander, thinking that the men had marched far enough for one day, put them comfortably into camp, told them to make their coffee, and then sent word to me to know if they had permission to remain there during the night. It was raining knew the position was an improper one. hard, very hard. It was a severe storm. But Ï It was

not the fulfilment of my orders. I sent back word, No; march forward to Tungston's Station. March!' It was dark-it was cold-it was stormy. The poor men had to be turned out once more, to march. Notwithstanding their labor, notwithstanding their toil and fatigue, they marched. What did they do? how did they take it?' do you ask? They took it as I hope you will take my speech. They went singing, singing, singing along the route noble, patient fellows!without a complaining word."

PUT IT IN GOLD LETTERS.-A few days af ter the fight at Skerry, near Charleston, Kanawha, Virginia, two or three Yankee officers visited the house of a Mr. Fry, who had been driven from his home by the enemy. A daughter of Mr. Fry saw them approaching through the gate, and confronted them in the porch, with a demand to know their business. They stated they were looking for secession flags, and heard there were some there.

"Brave men," said she in scorn, "take flags on the field of battle-cowards only hunt them Mine is in at the houses of defenceless women. the hands of our brave volunteers; go and take it from them."- Southern paper.