Daily State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1861-1865, 1862-09-22

the northwes,crn Campaign.
4 Journal Of the Eighteenth Indiana Regiment
BY WALTER STANLEY.
[Continued.1


Continued
June 30.-We waived adieu TO the roman
tic little town of Batesville, and marched
ga;ly away" to the old familiar strains of the
Girl left behind me-" tune which armies
invariably play when leaving any town of
even passible attractions A forced march
brought us TO Augusta on the third. We lay
over and had a good time of it, generally, on
the Fourth" A national salute was fired,
patriotic speeches we're made by Gen. Ben
ton, and Coils. Hovey, Bussey, and Washburn.
1t was rather too old a theme for oratorial
display, but was well enjoyed. Sometime in
the afternoon the performance came TO ter
mination, when the Eighteenth adjourned to
the river to take a swim and assist in plunder-
ing the town. This being small job, was
soon dispatched, and we returned to camp.
There was no whisky to be had, consequently
every one was sober. | sat down in my tent
and recalled each anniversary of that glori-
Gus day, when Young America sounded
the tocsin of defiance, -unfurled her star-lit
banner 10 the breeze, and whispered those
proud but terrible words, We are freew
/ Four remembered in the old University of
"Notre Dame" FIVE on the boundless sierras
of the West; another on the deep, blue wa
ters of the Gulf; the next was in old Indiana,
and the last have already attempted to dis
cribe. But / ann adigressing. July 6th-we
left Augusta, and took up our line of march
for Helena. Rations were .'non est" but the
planters along the road were old settlers, In
plenty of negroes and consequently ple11R
of provisions. You should have seen us dI
ging the potatoes and gathering the green
corn while the planter, with group of grim
ming Africans around him, forms very re-
spectacle background IL needs but glance
at his doleful countenance to assure you that
a few of those tinging sensations known as
"the horrors of war;" are playing around his
conscience. But we are masters now, and in
the truly significant language of my paTticu-
lar friend, Horace Greeley, "To the victors
belong the spoils.'
July 12.-The Grand Army of the South
west" suddenly turned up at Helena. The
citizens were extremely annoyed. They had
killed and buried the last one of US in the
:" State-Right Democrat" nearly two months
ago, and for twenty thousand of us TO march
through their town at "shouldered arms, y
was pretty severe shock for their sensitive
nerves The Eighteenth are still at Helena,
rusticating on the adjoining hills. Business
is pretty lively in town. In camp the scene
is changed. Drinking the doubie-disaled
quintessence OF deep ddmnation" at two dol
lars and half bottle, pugilistic encounters
with small sprinkling Of the code duello,'
are the standing orders OF the day. Reader
glance at the Mississippi, and | have done
As gaze on the dark bosom of the mighty
stream, feeling of awe steals athwart my
imagination, and old memories of thrilling
scenes in the sunny days of the past, when
life was a merry dream. group themselves to-
gether ON the shadowy tablet of my mind, and
form chain of gay and sad "reminiscences
The very word is, in itself. a world of ro-
nance. How many a tale of love and wal
could the red warrior of days gone by reveal
and, In more modern times, when the brave
De Soto, and has way-worn band, gazed in
raptures on the mighty stream; and meet
: tomb ii was for that proud, dauntless heart
for his was proud spirit as ever drew a
sword, even in his own proud, sunny Spain
And here he bowed at the shrine of that grin
old avenger, Deathl @
, But have written too much now, and here
. goes for finishing stroke: rT
t EPILoGUE.
! The day. thank God, is nearly won,
: For surely sinks the Southern sun;
E Der Corinth's walls our banner floats,
At New Orleans we've moored our boats;
At Yorktown, too, the tide Of war
"a Rolled back to freedoms Stripes and Stars
The land of cotton fees our chain,
One battle field alone remains.
: On that our buglcs soon viii sound,
For Richmond is the bloody ground
There, too, our flag shall proudly wave,
: In triumph DER secession's grave.
There let Us seal their final doom: "a - d
! Our wrath Is SLOW, hut sure 10 come
Not man nor fate can turn the blow
Which freemen hurl on freedoms foe