nessee's patriot sires, upon his advent into the city; a banner that was presented when rebels were dominant, and the angry passions of wicked men surged around its devoted lover's head; but now it can wave. unmolested, for the free winds chant their requiem over there. Saturday, March 1st.-We leave Nashville; descend the river, and return to Clarksville, where we are again quartered in the old tobacco factory. We still find Clarksville a very congenial locality, notwithstanding the citizens' hearts are with the South in its struggle for "Empire." We remain here until Friday, when the Seventh for the second time leaves Clarksville and the old tobacco factory. Marching on board the steamer E. H. Fairchild, we are soon descending the Cumberland. As we pass Fort Donelson, we are reminded that over on those hills, and in those ravines brave men sleep-sleep as martyrs for freedom. As we glide quietly down beneath the shadow of the projecting cliffs, we imagine that a voice comes from those hills and ravines, saying to us in the language of the poet: "Ye harvesters, rally from mountain and valley, And reap the fields we have won ; We sowed for endless years of peace, Saturday, 8th.-This morning we are on the Ohio, and it is not long until we join the fleet that came before us from the Cumberland. Presently we make a turn and pass into the waters of the Tennessee river. Tuesday, 18th.-This morning we are at a stand in the river at Pittsburg Landing. The fleet is large -about one hundred steamers throng the river. As far as the eye can reach, up and down, their smokestacks can be seen looming up. The Seventh has now been on the Fairchild for eleven days. They have been crowded, and part of the time the weather has been very inclement. The expedition thus far has been one of exciting interest. All along the river, where the old flag was seen to flash its light, loyal ones flocked to the shores, and as they beheld the proud steamers moving up the Tennessee, with that golden treasure on their masts, and from the decks the bayonets gleaming, they wept tears of joy, for they knew that with them would come freedom and protection. Wednesday, 19th.-This morning it is raining, having rained all night. It is an unwelcome compliment to the fleet. The troops are landing to-day at Pittsburg Landing. The Seventh is still compelled to remain crowded and jammed upon the Fairchild. The men are all anxious to get on to terra firma. It is very unhealthy here-so crowded. The water in the river where so many steamboats are anchored, is not, (so the surgeons say,) a very genuine article, and in consequence a large number of the boys are on the sick list. Thursday, 20th.-The troops are still landing. It seems that this point is to be Grant's base. But when we will get on the base is concerning the Seventh more particularly now than anything else. Only some place to breathe, that is all that is at present demanded. Friday, 21st.—This morning, after having patiently waited their time, the Seventh is marched from the Fairchild and camped in the woods back from the landing. It is indeed refreshing and invigorating to get out where the fresh winds blow. Those of the Seventh who were fanatical on steamboat riding don't seem inclined to expatiate much upon its beauties after their thirteen day's ride and life on the Fairchild. None are found to cast a tear of regret on leaving their repulsive berths. Saturday, 22d.-The fires are burning brightly in our camp this morning. All seem to have more genial looking faces than when on the steamboat. This evening we have dress parade, and as usual a large number of officers and soldiers from the surrounding camps assemble on our parade ground. What is the attraction? Why so many congregated here? inquires a general officer riding by. Those of the army of the Tennessee assembled tell him it is because the Seventh can drill. Saturday, April 5th.-Nothing of note has occurred to relieve the monotony of camp life. There is now a large army concentrated here. Far away on the hills and in the ravines the tents and the soldiers are seen. Up to this time we have had considable rain. The roads and by-ways into the camps are cut up terribly. It is with difficulty that the Sev enth keeps above mud and water. Vague rumors are afloat this evening to the effect that Albert Sidney Johnson is moving towards the Tennessee with his entire command; however, not much credit is attached to it. But we may anticipate days of desperate strife-days of fire and carnage in Tennessee, for no doubt there has been or is being a concentration of the rebel armies under Johnson and Beauregard, with headquarters at Corinth, Mississippi, twenty-five miles from Pittsburg Landing. Their hopes are no doubt beating high for revenge upon Grant's army, in consideration of the blow wielded against them, in those stormy days of battle around Fort Donelson. CHAPTER V. The battle of Shiloh-The first day-The attack-The first position of the Seventh-The advanced position of the SeventhTheir danger-Their retreat-Their new line-The fearful tempestThe lull-Grant's last line Sunday evening-The victors of that last great line-The arrival of Buell-The nightThe rain-The silent sleepers-The second day-The two armies fighting hand to hand-The enemy's retreat--The falling of the curtain-The Seventh's camp upon the field-The fallen-List of casualties-The record-The Seventh's wounded -The living-Burying the dead-Our camp at Shiloh after the battle-Marching orders. Sunday, the 6th of April, 1862.-It is now move ing—a beautiful Sabbath -morning. The dews have gone to heaven and the stars have gone to God; the sky is all inlaid with crimson, far away to the east. From behind the eastern hills the sun is peering; it is moving on its path. But ere it has long illumed the sky, war's dread tocsin is heard; the sullen roar of artillery breaks upon our ears, telling to us that the storm-king of battle would ride upon the banks of the Tennessee to-day. The army of the Tennessee. springs to arms to meet the advancing columns of Albert Sidney Johnson. The pennons are now flying. Major Rowett and the Seventh are quickly buckled for the conflict. Her old, tattered and shotriven flag goes flying through the woods, and the regiment is soon in the conflict. Their position is now behind a rail fence. Oh! the angry tempest that rolls around here! Belching cannons, shotted |