Vermont Phœnix

GLORY, HALLELUJAH!

The glorious victory achieved by our arms in the capture of Fort Donelson and the bagging of 15,000 rebels, following so closely upon the heels of our recent great successes at Fort Henry, Roanoke Island and Mill Spring, has touched a chord in every heart that beats in unison with "the music of the Union," and excited a thrill of exultation that vibrates through every loyal State in notes of joy and praise. From every State, from every city and almost from every town we have reports of intense excitement, unbounded enthusiasm and indescribable joy. Guns are fired, bells are rung, and the people are indulging in every conceivable manifestation of joy. Our past defeats are atoned for, our past delays are now satisfactorily explained, and no one from the least informed citizen up to Senator Fessenden is now inclined to criticise the general management of the war. All are ready to concede that those to whom the war power is intrusted have understood their business and made the most of their opportunities.

But mingling with the joyous notes of loyal hearts there comes to our ears strangely discordant sounds. From all rebeldom we hear lamentations and groans that may well represent the wail of the lost. Their boasted armies are sleeping the sleep that knows no waking, are prisoners in the hands of those whom they hate with only a brother's hatred, or are flying, disorganized, demoralized fugitives; their strongholds within which they defied the strength of the Union army have disappeared as by a magician's wand, only to re-appear in the hands of their conquerors. The "impassable barriers" they had set up on the confines of their late dominion for the protection of its vital parts, have been suddenly removed, leaving scarcely an obstacle in the way of not only "breaking the back" but of piercing the heart of the rebellion.

For these reasons we are jubilant; and not for these alone. The Union men of the South who, at the peril of their property, their safety and of even their lives, have nobly stood up for the dear old flag of their country, amid discouragements that have appalled all but the stoutest hearts, now find the day of their deliverance at hand. To them these victories are the glad tidings of great joy. It is a partial payment for the indignities and outrages they have suffered at the hands of those who were once their neighbors and kinsmen, but who are now their deadliest foes. The day of their restoration is at hand. Glory, Hallelujah!