The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1864-06-10

THE COST OF RICHMOND.
Yes, "we shall take Richmond this sum-
mer-the time has come," said an officer
to me last night, one of the most heroic OF
New England's heroic sons yes, we shall
take Richmond, but before that hour the
Army Of Virginia and the Army of the Po-
tomac will have ceased to exist" The glo-
rious soldiers of our first army, the holy
martyrs of our cause. who have marched
SO many times hopelessly "on to Rich.
mond, must fall before they catch sight
of its walls. They will consummate with
their life the victory which they cannot
see, and their bodies buried in Virginias
degenerate soil will make it at last "sa.
cred forever
Of what avail that we shrink from meas
uring the awful cost of the struggle before
us? A whole generation of men is the sac
rifice which we offer to liberty. This
Southern sun, sending such fervid heat
through the cooling boughs above me, how
it scorches the wounded and dying who lie
unsheltered under it's pitiless fire. Our
wounded and dying! This moment they
fall beyond the reach of our arms, who love
them better than our life.
Heroic men our country bears,
But daughters give up more than sons.
Flags wave, drums beat, and unawares
You flash your souls out with the guns.
And take your Heaven at once.
But we!-we empty heart and home
VI LIES life, love! We bear to think
You're gone-to feel you may not come:
To hear the door latch stir and clnk,
Yet no more you!"
To wait, and watch, and pray, in utter
helplessness, thinking of suffering which
cannot be alleviated, ,'of danger which can
not be shared, of death that cannot be
a7erted, this is hard! Life can inflict up.
on love no pang more poignant than this.
l clutch at every reason which presages
victory. Every movement indicates new
power impelling and quickening the whole
army. For the first time, campaign
opens, and its entire plan is not anticipated
and told in the streets of Washington Z:
therefore we may hope that it is not wholly
known and prepared for in the streets OF
Richmond. We have the promise that
this tried general shall lead the army as
be wills, without interference and without
restriction.
And our army Never has it been
nerved with such spirit as now. Baffled,
defeated, led to heroic death, it has been
in the past; now every man, as he remem.
bers his comrades slain in fruitless battles.
as he remembers his home, his country.
feels that the hour has come to conquer A
peace.
THE RESULTS OF vICrORY-THE PATHOs OF
WAR.
s'Great Union victory!" "Names of
the killed and wounded!" the newsbovs
cry. And now the newspaper. A rapid
glancing down its columns, while nv yery
breath is suspended with fear. No. and
yet it would be almost q comfort to sea
one name with the "slightly wounded :,
for then / should know that he was not
left behind, with those who, after having
suffered the tOrtures of thousand deaths
must die, die in the Wilderness, die by the
road, die under the bayonets of human
fends, with no one near to pity or to save.
Passing out Fourteenth street, the trees
by the oadside droop beneath the heavy
garniture of May-many-leafed as the TO
liage of a Northern June. Sunshine and
shadow CLEAN and flicker over the deep
emerald of the softly swelling hills which
environ the suburbs. The orchards are
raining down fragrance in myriads OF
snowy blossoms. Cottage and villa, and
yonder on that crowning knoll, the pale,
stone tower of the Soldiers Home, peer
ing above the empowering trees, and here,
on the green slope of Mount Pleasant, the
cattle grazing-how peaceful all look
Yet through all this beatty, far along the
road, creeps, the long line of ambulances,
packed full of wounded men. Here pro-
trudes the stump of an arm; here bare
and bandaged foot; here against these
bars where the May air may kiss it, rests
pale, patient face; and the crimson blot
and white patch on the cheek tell where
the bullet smote. The yard of Columbia
College hospital is filled with ambulanoes.