A Memphis gentleman gave me an amusing account of the reception of the news of the fall of Fort Donelson.  Many boasts had been made of the terrible punishment that was in store for our army, if it ventured an attack upon Fort Donelson.  No one would be allowed to escape to tell the tale.  All were to be slaughtered, or lodged in Rebel prisons.  Memphis was consequently waiting for the best tidings from the Cumberland, and did not think it possible a reverse could come to the Rebel cause.

One Sunday morning, the telegraph, without any previous announcement, flashed the intelligence that Fort Donelson, with twelve thousand men, had surrendered, and a portion of General Grant’s army was moving on Nashville, with every prospect of capturing that city.  Memphis was in consternation.  No one could tell how long the Yankee army would stop at Nashville before moving elsewhere, and it was certain that Memphis was uncovered by the fall of Fort Donelson.

My informant first learned the important tidings in the rotunda of the Gayoso House.  Seeing a group of his acquaintances with faces depicting the utmost gloom, he asked what was the matter.

“Bad enough,” said one.  “Fort Donelson has surrendered with nearly all its garrison.”

“That is terrible,” said my friend, assuming a look of agony, though he was inwardly elated.

“Yes, and the enemy are moving on Nashville.”

“Horrible news,” was the response; “but let us not be too despondent.  Our men are good for them, one against three, and they will never get out of Nashville alive, if they should happen to take it.”

With another expression of deep sorrow at the misfortune which had befallen the Rebel army, this gentleman hastened to convey the glad news to his friends.  “I reached home,” said he, “locked my front door, called my wife and sister into the parlor, and instantly jumped over the center-table.  They both cried for joy when I told them the old flag floated over Donelson.”

The Secessionists in Memphis, like their brethren elsewhere, insisted that all the points we had captured were given up because they had no further use for them.  The evacuation of Columbus, Fort Pillow, Fort Henry, and Bowling Green, with the surrender of Donelson, were parts of the grand strategy of the Rebel leaders, and served to lure us on to our destruction.  They would never admit a defeat, but contended we had invariably suffered.

An uneducated farmer, on the route followed by one of our armies in Tennessee, told our officers that a Rebel general and his staff had taken dinner with him during the retreat from Nashville.  The farmer was anxious to learn something about the military situation, and asked a Rebel major how the Confederate cause was progressing.

“Splendidly,” answered the major.  “We have whipped the Yankees in every battle, and our independence will soon be recognized.”

The farmer was thoughtful for a minute or two, and then deliberately said: