upon them.

"What be them for?" asked the man.

"Those are directions to the engineer to blow the whistle and ring the
bell, that people who may be on the carriage-road may look out and not
get run over by the train," the Major answered.

"O yes, I see."

The man sat in silence awhile, with his lips working as if he was trying
to spell.

"Well, Major," he said at last, "it may be as you say. I know that
w-r-i-n-g spells ring, but for the life of me I don't see how you can
get an R into whistle!"

The fall of Fort Donelson was a severe blow to the Rebels. It had a
great effect. It was the first great victory of the Union troops. It
opened all the northwest corner of the Confederacy. It compelled General
Johnston to retreat from Bowling Green, and also compelled the
evacuation of Columbus and all Central Tennessee. Nashville, the capital
of that State, fell into the hands of the Union troops.

On Sunday morning the Rebels at Nashville were in good spirits. General
Pillow had telegraphed on Saturday noon, as you remember, "On the honor
of a soldier, the day is ours." The citizens shouted over it.

One sober citizen said: "I never liked Pillow, but I forgive him now. He
is the man for the occasion."

Another, who had been Governor of the State,--a wicked, profane
man,--said: "It is first-rate news. Pillow is giving the Yankees hell,
and rubbing it in!"[6] It is a vile sentence, and I would not quote it,
were it not that you might have a true picture from Rebel sources.

[Footnote 6: Mobile Tribune.]

The newspapers put out bulletins:--

"ENEMY RETREATING! GLORIOUS RESULT!! OUR BOYS FOLLOWING AND
PEPPERING THEIR REAR!! A COMPLETE VICTORY!"

The bell-ringers rang jubilant peals, and the citizens shook hands over
the good news as they went to church. Services had hardly commenced,
when a horseman dashed through the streets, covered with mud, and almost
breathless from hard riding, shouting, "Fort Donelson has surrendered,
and the Yankees are coming!"

The people poured out from the churches and their houses into the
street. Such hurrying to and fro was never seen. Men, women, and
children ran here and there, not knowing what to do, imagining that the
Yankees would murder them. They began to pack their goods. Carts,
wagons, carriages, drays, wheelbarrows,--all were loaded. Strong men
were pale with fear, women wrung their hands, and children cried.

Before noon Generals Floyd and Pillow arrived on st