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_ BUSINESS 'nlnnoronr.
\ Norwalk Post Ofice.
West 7.30 A. M.-—-2.30 P. M.
East 8.30 A. M.—-5.00 P. M.
Danbury & Norwalk Railroad 8.50 A. M.
Weston, Bedding and Bedding Ridge, 'lues-
days, Thursdays and Saturdays, at 12 M.
NAILS DUE.
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Danbury & Norwalk Railroad 8.00 A. M.
POST OFFICE HOURS.
From 7.00 A. M. to 8.00 P. M.
CHARLES OLMSTEAD, r. n.
N. A. MOSMAN, M. 3.,
Homoeopathic
Physician and Surgeon,
Office over C. J . Gruman’s Store,
NORWALK, CONN.
Office hours from 1 to 3 P. M.
New
HARDWARE &. PAINT STORE,
' Main Street,
Opposite I. H. Campell’s Confectionery,
MARVIN & PROWITT,
Wholesale and retail Dealers in Hardware,
Cutlery, Paints, Oils, Glass, Paper Hang:
ings, Window Shades, &c.
ROOFING SLATE,
Prom Vermont,
VERY CHEAP,
At South Norwalk by
H. E. WING.
THE ALLIS HOUSE,
(formerly Union House,)
Opposite N. Y. & N. H. Depot. in Union-st,
New Haven, Conn.
L. P. ALLIS, Pnornmron.
JAMES G. BARBO'U'R,
SURGICAL AND MECHANICAL
D E N '.'l'.' I S '1‘,
Office at Residence, East Avenue, Norwalk,
Connecticut.
Architecture.
SIDNE 2 M. STONE,
‘ ARCHITECT,
Will furnish Plans, Specifications, Detail
Drawings, and superintend the erection of
public and private buildings. Office in Mar-
ble Block, Chapel-st, New Haven, Ct. tf52
E0. F. BELDEN, Norwalk, Conn.,Man-
ufacturer of Tin, Copper, and Sheet
Iron Ware; and dealer in Stoves, Ranges,
Furnaces, Cutlery, Brittannia, Wooden and
Willow Ware, Crockery; and a full assort-
ment of House Keeping articles generally.
E! BISSELL, Auctioneer, will give
, o particular attention to sales by Auc-
tion, of Real Estate, Personal Property and
Household Furniture : terms low.
WM. 0. STREET & co, ;
Importers; wholesale and retail dealers in
HARDWARE, IRON,
Steel Cutlery, Guns, Agricultural Imple-
ments, Oils, Paints, Window Glass, &c. ‘
a. s. nocnwoon,
Fashionable Draper & Tailor,
and
GENTLEMEN’S FURNISHIN G
EMPOBIU M t
No‘.’ 3 Skiddy’s Block, Main-st, Norwalk, Gt.
8. E. 'OI-MSTEAD fl. 00.,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
Groceries, Flour, Feed, do,
14 and 16 Main-st, Norwalk, Conn.
ETNA INSURANCE COMPANY,
Of Hartford,
Incorporated in 1819, Charter Perpetual.
Cash Capital $1,000,000
Insure against loss and damage by Fire,
on Terms adapted to the hazard,aud
consistent with the laws of
compensation.
GEORGE R. COWLES, Sole Agent
1y3 For N orwalk and vicinity.
MRS.- AYRES'
OYSTER SALOON.
REMOVAL.
HE “ Spring Saloon” is at present located
in Basement No. 1, of James’ Building,
Water Street, where r '
0 LS’I'ERS .y RENEE SHMENTS
of all kinds will be served as heretofore.
tflO MRS. AYRES.
HOOPING.
THE subscriber is prepared to furnish par-
ties, building, With Warren’s superior
FELT ANI) CEMENT ROOFING.
.This article of Roofing is in use upon the
Norwalk Lock Compan ’s Building, and at
Lounsbury, Bissell & Co s, where it gives en-
tire satisfaction, and is believed to be the
cheapest as well as the best finding in use.—
All orders will receive prompt : ttention.
1‘ LOOMIS.
Delightful New Books.
SUTHERLANDS—by the author of “Rut-
ledge.” At SELLECK’S.
Life and Time.
FROM THE FRENCH OE LAMARTINE. . ,
I have said in my heart, of this life what to 'e?
Shall I follow where journey’d the masses of yore?
Like a lamhkin that skips as the dam skips before,
And thus copy of mortals each mortal mistake ‘3
One seeks over oceans hop‘d treasures in chase,
And the waves swallow up his adventurous sail;
Whilst the other, of glory—if genius prevail !—
Will intoxicate, die in her cruel cmbr
With the pasaions creating the intricate snare,
That one founds a throne, and ascends but to fall;
0f far sweeter voices this lists to the call,
And deciphers his fate in the eyes of the fair.
The Idler sleeps on amid hunger‘s abode,
The Husbandman cultures his fields as he may,
The Learned still ponder, the Soldiers still slay,
Whilst the beggar reclines at the side of the road.
Meanwhile, whither go they ? they go as the leaf
Which the fury of winter drives rudely away;
Thus go, fading out, generations to-day.
Sown by time,and now gathered,in moments so brief.
They wrestle with time ; but his aim has not miss’d
Like a river that swallows the sands as it flows,
I have seen him devour these shadowy foes}
They are born—they are dead—did they ever exist?
As for me I will trumpet the name I adore,
’Mid the din of the city, in vale far away,
At the set of the sun, at the dawn of the day,
Whether toss’d on the ocean, or firm on the shore l
Mere earthlings have said tb me, Who, then,is God?
The One whose great spirit pervadeth all space 1
Whose step all its measure Can instantly trace!
And who lent to the sun all his blaze, with a nod l
The One, who, from Chaos, made Worlds at a birth,
And the universe pois’d in the void at his feet;
Who enclosed all the oceans in boundaries meet,
And launch’d,with a glance,all the light of the earth !
The One who regards not to-morrow, to-day;
The One who, since time, reproduces his pow’r;
Who sees in the future as well as this hour,
And calls back the ages his hand flung away!
It is He, ’tis the Lord l-let my accents imply
The numberless names of his glory and might ;
As the harps at his altars to worship invite,
Will I chant to his praise till be. bid that I die !
W
From the Continental Monthly.
Bone Ornaments.
Silent the lady sat alone:
In her ears were rings of dead men’s bone;
The brooch on her breast shone white and fine,
’Twas the polished joint of a Yankee’s spine ;
And the well-carved handle of her fan,
Was the finger bone of a Lincoln man,
She turned aside a flower to cull,
From a vase which was made of a human skull ;
For to make her forget the loss of her slaves,
Her lovers had rifled dead men’s graves.
Do you think I‘m describing a witch or ghoul ?
There are no such things—and I’m not afool ;
Nor did she reside in Ashantec;
No—the lady fair was an F. F. V.
«.
'THE MAGIC 0F wonns.
BY T. S. ARTHUR.
Peter Crandall was not an ill-natured,
captions or fault-finding man, and yet the
home of Peter Crandall was not happy.
Very little sunshine streamed in across
the threshold. Was it his wife’s fault?
A visitor, who saw per in her usual mood,
might, if conclusions were made from
first impressions, lead to this opinion.
She inclined to fretfulness and impatience;
and often scolded the children when her
husband could see little in them to blame.
The Crandalls were poor. Mr. Cran-
dall was a mechanic and earned only me-
chanic’s wages. Mrs. Crandall was the
mother of five children, the oldest of them
thirteen years old; but their narrow in.-
come left nothing to spare for the hire of
a domeétic, so all the work fell upon her.
She was toil-worn and toil-weary at the
dying of each day; and the same, though
not to an equal extent, might be said of
her husband. He had more strength for
his work, and therefore could endure
greater fatigue He had the advantage“
which was a most important one-s—of
freedom from causes of nervous excite-
ment, and the inevitable exhaustion that
followed. He labored on at one kind of
work, uninterrupted all day long, while
she was subject to perpetual and sunny-
ing interruptions, incident to her position
of mother and housekeeper.
Between Peter Crandall and his wife
there did not seem to exist much afl‘ec-
tion. They never spoke loving words,
nor manifested, except upon rare occa~
sions, any pleasures at meeting or any
mutual interest. The little courtesies of
life were something unknown in their
cheerless dwelling. Rude, boisterous,
quarrelsoa'le the children grew up, bring-
ing discord into the house that was un-
comfortable enough without that die-
agreeable inmate. The mother scolded
and punished in anger; but saw no good
rgsults of her discipline. The father
scolded in concert, but always felt an un-
pleasant sensation afterward, ps if he had
been doing something wrong.
And so the years went on, and the
sunbeams came not across the threshold
into their dwelling. Occasionally Mr.
Crandall obtained a brief glance in some
other homes, and as the pleasant visions
passed, a sigh would disturb his bosom,
light and warmth Were there.
Something was wrong in his_ own
home; that he had felt for a great while
—and he did not wholly blame his wife.
Hut the exact location of the wrong he
could never clearly perceive. In the be-
ginning it was different. Then there was
a warmth in his heart and sunshine in the
face of his wife. But it was in his mem-
ory, marked day after day as a dial re-
cords the advancing shadow; how the
brightness 0‘. her face diminished steadily
until all was eclipsed. Ah! if he had
dreamed of the cause! But Mr. Crun-
dall was not the man who looked inward
upon his own life—not a man who con-
sidered his actions in their effect upon
others. He was, moreover, a silent, un-
demonstrutive man, rarely expressing his
feelings. He gave few outward signs by
which any one could read his heart.
Here lay the origin of his trouble at
home—the beginning of the eclipse that
left this world almost in total darkness,
when it'should have been noonday. It
was enough for Mrs. Crandall, in the
earlier years of their wedded life, to
know that her husband loved her. Her
heart asked more. She wanted loving
words and loving looks also; and for
lack of these its green things withered,
and its blossoms faded. Having told her
in the beginning that he loved her; hav-
ing afterwards married in proof of his
declaration; and worked ever since for
the sustaining of his heme, and keeping
her as far above want as it was possible
for him to do—Mr. Crandall saw no
reason why he should be all the time
passing compliments. He couldn’t do it.
It wasn’t in him. He would have felt
ashamed of it as a weakness.
And so, almost from the beginning, he
failed to give those little outward signs
of affection, those pleasant tokens of
kindness so grateful to all. When his
wife said, as was often the case, during
the first year that succeeded their mar.
riugc, “ Thank you, Peter,” and smiled
gratefully in return for some little act of
kindness—or expressed pleasure when he
came home from his work at evening,
drawing her arm around his neck and
kissing him—or told him how lonesome
she felt all day, and what a light his
coming brought into the' home, Peter
Crandall felt a glow of ‘easure in his
heart. But it did not come within the
range of his imagination—dull at best—
to conceive that like words from him
would be to the spirit of his wife like dew
to the thirsty ground: So he never ex-
pressed,pleasure at meeting, but rather
affected, from a kind of false pride, a cer-
tain coldness, as though it were an action
of manliness to act indifi‘erently. No
matter how many attentions his 'wife
might show him—no matter what she
prepared for his return, nor with what
dainty skill she cooked the evening or
noon-day meals, he never praised, and-
rarely gave even the meagre reward of
expressed gratification. But if things
were wrong—if the coffee was bad, or the
bread sour, or the meat burned in cook-
ing, he was sure to speak out; and not
always in over choice words.
As Mrs. Crandall began to fail in out'
ward signs of affection, Peter perceived
their withdrawal as the gradual fading of
sunshine, when clouds gather over the
flimsy veils that deepen into obscuring
curtains. But the cause to him was a
mystery. He felt as of old to his wife,
and worked as cheerfully as in the begin-
ning. The home feeling was as strong
as ever; and, after withdrawing from the
outer world, when the night shadows fell,
he had not the beginning of a desire to
go abroad from his sanctuary, shoru, as
it was. of a chief attraction—the smiles
and loving tones and words of his chang-
ing wife.
From this inauspicious beginning went
on steadily the unhappy change. The
coming of children, which, on their ad-
vent, was like the falling down upon
them of sunbeums, through suddenly rift-
ed clouds increased instead of dismissing
the unpleasant napect of things in the
house of Peter Crandall. If the mother’s
heart had been cheerful and strong—if
her husband had not shut out the light it
needed to keep its green things unwither-
ed and its flowers in bloom, this Would
not have been so. The cheerful spirit
would have given life to the body—
would have filled every nerve with vital
force, and every muscle with strength for
daily toil. But the children proved more
of a burden than comfort. There was in
their home so littléms‘uushine that few
green things flourished in their hearts,
and the opening of a flower was of a
rare occurrence. But thorns to wound
and weeds to offend were there, and
hourly they seemed to gain a ranker
growth.
How it was in the home of Peter
Crandall will be clear to every one now.
There are around as thousands and thou-
sands of such homes, all the chambers of
which are made dark and cheerless for
the lack of “small sweet courtesies of
life," so cheaply given, and so magical in
their efi'ects.
One day Peter Crandall was sent by
his employer, to do some work in the
house of a customer. The wqu happen.-
ed to be in the family sitting room, in
which were four children with their
mother. The lady spoke to him politely
when he come in, and the children treat-
ed him respectfully. He had been at
work onlya little, when his attention was
attracted by a request from the mother
to one of the children to go up stairs and
bring her some articles she named. We
say requested; for this was the form of
words she uttered, The child went in-
stantly.
‘Thank you, dear,’ said the mother.
Crandall turned and looked at the
child. Her countenance was tranquil
and happy.
‘ J aue, I will take those scissors, if you
please.’ '
, Crandall looked again. It was the
mother who had spoken. One of the
children was sitting on the floor, busily
engaged in cutting out pictures. But
she started up instantly and brought the
shears to her mother. '
‘Thank you dear,’ was the mother’s
acknowledgement of the services, as in
the former case. ‘
‘Will you want them long?’ asked the
child.
‘ No, dear, only a few minutes. Then
{you shall have them again.’
NORWALK. CONN.,
TUESDAY, JULY 8, 1862. '
VOLUME XLVb-NUMBER '27.
The child stood patiently by her
mother’s side until the scissors were out
of service, and then received them.
‘Thank you,’ she said, as she took
them from her mother’s hand, and then
danced back, singing to her place on the
floor where her pictures lay.
All this struck Crandall as beautiful,
and he sighed as the harsher image of
his own home intruder] itself
work, the husband and father came home.
His presence was hailed with delight.
tell him, and he entered into the feelings
of each, praised their little achievements
and approving wherever there seemed a
chance for words of approbation. It
was the same towards his wife. She
spoke or some directions she had given
to Crandall. .
‘ That was right,’ he answered, adding,
‘ how thoughtful you are.’
A pleased smile went over the wife’s
countenance.
‘ You forgot your pocket handkerchief
this morning,’ said the latter, handing a
white linen handkerchief to her husband.
‘ So I did. Thank you, dear.’ And
he received the handkerchief with as
polite an acknowledgement in manner as
in words. ,
Many other little instances of home
courtesies were observed by Crandall,
who left the house when his work was
completed, with a new impression of life
enstamped upon his consciousness. The
image of that pleasant home was fixed
upon his mind like a thing of beauty.
He had dreamed faintly of such homes——
or read of them in books; but the reality
was now before him. The husband and
father whose presence had brightened
that home, he knew in a general way as
a thriving man of business, who came
frequently to the establishment where he
worked. 1118 face were, generally. a
grave aspect, a little sour, he had not
given him any credit for such kindness of
feeling; and was therefore the more im-
pressed for what he had seen. .
The sweet, musical way in which
ithauk you, dear,’ had been said reoipro:
cally, by mother and children, many
times, and on all occasions of services
rendered, no matter how small, had found
an echo in his mind, where it was con-
tinually repeated, until “thank you, dear,’
as he mused on his work, came almost to
his lips in vocal utterance,
When Crandall went home at night-
fall, hefivas still dreamin'g over the pic-
ture in his mind, and words ‘ thank you,
dear,’ were still echoing there in a kind
of low music. He was very much sub-
dued in feeling, almost sad; and there
was an air or languor about him as he
came into the room where his wife was at
work getting supper ready, so that she ob-
served it as something unusual.
‘Jane, take your father’s 'coat and
hang it up,’ said Mrs Crandall to the
eldest daughter.
The girl obeyed, but there was no afv
fection in her manner, and she moved in
a listless sort of a way toward her father,
and reached out her hand for the coat.
Mr. Crandall gave her the garment, say-
ing, ‘thank you, dear.’
The words were spontaneous, not of
design; and spoken with a tender utter-
ance. He was but repeating the tune
that was still sounding in his memory.
What instant life seemed to quicken
through the child’s frame. She gave one
glance of surprise into her father’s face,
and then stepped away with the coat like
one pleased to render a service.
Mr. Crandall was surprised at himself;
and for an instant, half ashamed of what
he had done, as if it were a weakness.
‘Will you have a glass of water '2’
asked Jane, coming back to her father.
‘If you please.’
Mr. Crandall wondered at his own re.
ply. An almost cold, abrupt ‘yes,’ or
‘ no,’ was his accustomed answer to near-
ly all questions.
How lightly did Jane trip, from the
room. In a twinkling she was back with
a cool glass of water for her father, who,
as he received it from her hand, said,
' thank you.’
1‘9 tilt child, all unaccustomed to such
an acknowledgement for any service,
those two little words were felt to be a
sweet reward.
The father’s altered manner and way
of speaking was perceived by the chil-
dren as well as by their mother; and, as
if by magic, the whole of their lives
seemed changed.
‘Shall'I bring up your slippers?’
asked Jane, returning to her father.
‘ Yes, that’s a good girl,’ he answered,
‘my feet are aching in these heavy
boots.’
As J one left the room with a spring-
ing step, Mr. Crandall commenced draw-
ing off his boots. They were no sooner
laid upon the floor than two little fellows
caught hold of them, each desirous of an
approving word as areward for their ser-
vice render-ed their tired father.
‘I’ll put one in the closet, and John
the other.’
‘What brave little men!’ exclaimed
Mr. Crandall, really pleased at heart,
and manifesting his pleasure in the tones
of his voice. ‘I’m a thousand times
obliged to you ’
Jane returned with the slippers in a
few moments, and stoopiug down, draw
them upon her father’s feet. When she
rose up, with checks glowing, and eyes
dancing in a new light, Mr. Crandall
thought her face looked really beautiful.
While at.
Every child had something to show or.
‘ Thank you. dear.’ The words come
now really from his heart.
Mrs. Crandall looked and listened,
wonderingly, while a strange glow per-
vaded her bosom. What could be the
meaning of all this? In a quiet, pleased
way, the children gather ed around their
father, one climbing upon his knee.
‘ What have you been domg all day,
Jimmy?’ asked Mr. Crandall of the
child.
‘ Playing,’ was the simple answer.
“Have you been a good boy?’
‘ Not all the time,’ answered the child.
‘ I am sorry; Jimmy must try and be
a good boy all the time. What have
you been playing ?’
‘ Oh, everything. Horses and dogs,
and turning up Jack, as mother says.’
Mr. Crandall laughed out at the reply,
saying: '
‘You turned up Jack mostly, I sup
pose.’
‘ Well, I guess I did.’
Mr. Crandall laughed again. T‘
spirit of good nature was transferre
into every heart. Even Mrs. Cranda?
usually in a fretted state of mind, felt it
genial influence.
‘Jimmy’s been a right good boy to
day,‘ said- she in an approving voice.
‘ His turning up Jack hasn’t amounted
to much.’
Mrs. Crandall was moving about all
this time, preparing supper. Jane, who
never willingly gave her mother any as-
sistance, and whowas rarely called upon
because she grumbled whenever asked to
do anything, now said, ‘Mother, can I
help you?’
‘Yes, dear.’ That ‘dear’ which had
fallen so unexpectedly from her husband
had been echoing in the mind of Mrs.
Crandall quite as spoutaneoasly as in the
case of her husband. ‘Yes, dear, "you
may finish setting the table while I disl.
up the supper.’
Wondering almost as much at herself
as at her husband, Mrs. Crandall, after
seeing J ane move with a pleasing alacrity
about the table, went into the kitchen,
and soon all was ready. Quite enough
to satisfy the appetite had Mrs. Cran-
dall prepared; but her thoughts turned
upon something else— something that
would give her the opportunity to ask
him if she should not get it for his sup-
per."‘"‘Yes, dear’ How she was long-
ing for the words uttered in the gentle,
loving way they had a little while before
been spoken—but for her ears alone. At
last she turned from the fire, and going
to the door of the room, said very kindly:
“Shall I boil you a couple of fresh
eggs for your supper, Peter?’
‘ Yes, dear, if you please.’
How the wife’s poor heart, which for
years had lain almost dead in her bosom,
leaped with a joyous impulse! What a
light flashed over her cguntenancemaking
it beautiful as of old, in the face of her
husband. ‘ Yes, dear, if you please.’
Not even in the voice of Grisi or Dina
would her ears have found such sweet
musw. ,
At the supper table Peter Crandall
praised the coffee and the fried potatoes,
and said the eggs were just what he
wanted. Mrs. Crandall looked happy,
and was happy. With the vanishing of
their father’s usual silence, and their
mother’s sour looks and fretful tones, the
childrens’ spirits, changing like the
chameleon, and taking the has of things
around them, rose into new, better and
happier states. Contention ceased; and
there was something like an emulation of
kind offices among them, instead of a
selfish grasping of whatever- the heart
desired.
Suddenly the eyes of Mr. Crandall
opened. Even while he was wondering
at the magical change produced by a few
kind words, a full revelation of the truth
came to his mind. A new leaf in the
book of his life was turned.
Though turned once in the right direc.
tion—Peter Crandall pondered {this new
fact in his inner life history—the magic
of won-demand going back to the very
beg-inning, reviewing his own conduct to-
wards his wife and family, almost day by
day, up to the evening, when by the pow-
er of almost a single word, the whole
scene chau god, and quite as suddenly as
we see it sometimes in a pantomine. He
saw his error—saw how unjust he had
been; and cold, and. even cruel inrhis
coldness. Very carefully ,did he guard
himself afterwards; and very prompt was
be in observing all the little social courte-
sies towards his wife and children, which
are so beautiful to see and so sweet in all
their influences.
The green things flourished again in
the heart of his wife, and the flowers
bloomed there as of old. The children
learned to emulate the kind words and
courteous acknowledgments for all little
services, that soon became a habit with
their father and mother; and into kind
words spoken, kind feeling soon followed.
It was the beginning of a new order of
things in the home of Peter Crandall;
where, in good time, the desert bloomed
as the rose.
Words appear as little things in them-
selves, but have great power. The magic
of kind words is wonderful! Try them,
ye silent Peter Crandalls, who have fret-
ful wives and contentious children . Try
the efl'ect of a little‘ wholesome praise to
your tired, unhappy, overworked com-
panion, and see if it doesn’t brighten her
been poured upon it.
household.
o.<.>.
From the New York Tribune.
Fight Before Richmond.
The general Operations about which
great a fever, is about as follows : The
first indication of “something in the
wind” was observed at White House, one
of the main depots for commissarv Stores
—on Wednesday 1031;, when a
. . N \ - ‘ v
o_ - 1— '=.n
i"
. a
railroad were kept running night and day
carrying forward nothing but amunition,
munitions of war, and siege and rocket
trains, and field pieces. The last event
of Wednesday night was the arrival of
nearly a hundred wounded men of Hook-
er’s division, who had participted in the
mysterious movement of Gen. McClellan
on that morning,securing Tavern Hill(the
“important point” in Gen. McClellan’s
dispatches,) which commands Richmond.
Nothing of great importance occurred on
Thursday morning; the removal of stores
and munitions of war continued. About
noon the enemy made their first attack in
a feint upon Gen. Stoncman’s forces, near
Hanover Court-House, but about 2 p. m.
crossing the Chickahominy. and making a
desperate attempt to drive back our men.
The only forces engaged here were Mc-‘
Call’s division, who were located on the
opposite side of a swampy ravine, about
a mile and a half back from the Chicka-
hominy River. The battle lasted from
about 2 until 9 p. m., when the eubmy
drew ofl‘, renewing the attack at the break
of day on Friday, and after several hours
of hard fighting, Gen. McCall’s division
were ordered to full back. The fighting
especially on Friday, is said to have been
terrible. The Rebels had overwhelming
forces, and as soon as they met one re-
pulse, they returned doubly strong.—
They came in such dense masses that the
shell and grape poured into them made
great gaps in their lines, which were im-
mediately filled up, and they moved for-
ward most determinedly. Their artillery
was so poorly served that the damage to
our ranks was lightin proportion. They
still moved on, and exchanged showers of
Minie balls; but when Gen. Porter order-
ed a bayonet charge, they retreated iu
doublequick, though he pursued them but
a. short distance, The enemy again ral-
led and approached our lines, when the
some terrible slaughter ensued. This
time their artillery was more effective.—
On coming to close quarters they were
again repulsed, and driven back a still
greater distance, the twice fought-over
battle ground being literally strewn with
the dead and the dying.‘ Gen. Porter a
second time fell back to his position, and
waited nearly an hour for the enemy to
renew the assault. They finally came on
in increased numbers, having been large-
ly re-enforced, and were again received
with shell and grape, causing great chasms
in their ranks. A third time they bore
down most determinedly on our lines, and
this conflict was the most severely contes.
ted of the whole, but when the bayonet
was brought to bear he fell back, and
was pressed toward Richmond fall a mile
beyond our original lines. Again, for
the fourth time, General Porter fell
back to his first position, when an order
was received from General McClellan to
continue his retrograde movement slowly
and in order. The enemy again pushed
forward boldly, when their advance was
checked by the entire reserved force.—
The fresh force held the enemy in check,
while the force which had previously borne
the brunt of the battle moved back in
good order, carying with them their
wounded and dead. The enemy made a
fierce attack on the reserve, but cannon
were posted at various points of the route
by which they were retiring toward the
Chickahominy, which occasionally pour-
ed in shot and shell upon them, and check-
ed their movements, and enabled the
troops to move back in order. At one
time in this rcjorgrude movement, the re-
serve force of Gen. Sykes charged on the
enemy with the bayonet and drove him
back nearlya mile. This is about the sub-
stance of the fighting, which closed on
Friday night. Our loss is estimated at
1,200. The loss in oflicers is heavy.—
There are many wild rumors afloat, but
we place little reliance upon them. A
letter writer, who ought to be well in-
formed not only of results but of plan,
comes to the following gratifying conclu-
sion: That the object of Gen. McClellan
long before the battle, on Friday, was to
abandon the White House, and also draw
in his right wing across the Chickahom-
iny. That he has accomplished this most
pale face, as if a flood of sunbeams bad
Try it with your
child, and if you have in you the heart of
a true man, you will be so pleased with
the effect that you will keep on trying
until you will scarcely recognize your own
the city has for two days, been in so
fleet of
he has strengthened his position by con
of his operations to the James River
is equally, self-evident.
but a slight struggle.
Great Battle at Richmond !
Heavy Loss on both Sides.
The following is a summary of the war
news which the War Department refused
to allow to be published in last Monday’s
papers :
The Tribune’s dispatch, dated “Battle
Field,” Sunday morning, states that a
severe and most determined battle was
fought on the right wing, Thursday and
Friday, which is claimed by some of our
officers as a successful strategic move-
ment, into which the enemy has unwit-
tingly been drawn, and which will soon
result in the capture of Richmond and
the entire rebel army. The attack was
made by the enemy, in immense force,
who crossed the Chickahominy near the
railroad above Mechanicsville, Thursday
afternoon, and fought desperately, but
were unable to drive our men a single
red, though the enemy were ten to one.
The only force engaged that day was Mc-
Call’s division. The battle lasted from 2
till 9 P. M., when the division was or-
dered back. Gen. McClellan was on the
field, expressing himself satisfied with the
result.
The following is adigest of the Tri-
June’s report of the two day’s battle
which the correspondent states is neces-
sarily imperfect.
Thu day noon, the enemy made an
attack on Gen. Stoneman’s forces in the
Shortly after, they commenced a vigor-
ous cannouading from their works on an
eminence opposite Mechanicsville, also
from two batteries, one above and the
other below. They were replied to by
Campbell’s Pennsylvania batteries, one
on the Mechanicsville road, the other
from behind the earthworks at the right
of the grove.
About 2P. M. the enemy’s infantry
and squadrons of cavalry crossed the.
Chickahominy in immense force, a short
distance above the Virginia Central rail-
road, making a rapid advance towards
McCall’s division,entrenched on the hilly
woodland, across a swampy ravme about
a mile in the rear of Mechanicsville.
The first Penn. rifles and Buckley’s
and Campbell’s battery were on picket
duty, all of whom except one company
fell back behind the breastworks and rifle
pits where the line of battle was drawu
up. Co..K of Buckley’s battery on pick-
et duty beyond the railroad, were sur-
rounded, and the last known of them
they were trying to cut their way thro’
an immensely superior force. Their fate
is unknown, but it is presumed that the
greater portion are prisoners.
The enemy advanced down the rear of
Mechanicsville on a low marshy ground,
to where our forces were drawn up be-
hind rifle pits and earthworks, on an em-
inence on the northerly side of thC ravine
where the fight became most terrible.—
Thc rebels, with most determined cour.
age, attempted to press forward over
more ground, the bullets and grape fell
among them like hail until, in the words
of an officer. “They lay like flies on a su-
gar-bowl,” and withdrew.
The cannonading was kept up on both
sides until about 9 P. M., when the bat-
tle ceased. Our forces were covered by
earthworks, and suffered but slightly,—
Late in the afternoon the enemy made a
charge with cavalry. About 100 of
them came rushing down and attempted
to cross the ravine when the horses be-
came mad.
A squadron of our cavalry seeing the.
position in which the enemy were placed,
made a charge dowu the bill, when the
cavalry men abandoned their horses and
fled.
The infantry fight was then renewed,
and continued till about 7 P. M., ivhen
a retreat was ordered, very much against
the will of the Penn. boys, who begged
to be allowed to defend their position,
which they felt confident they could hold.
The outer forces began to fall back.”
Of the fight next day, he says :
The cannonading was terriflic, and the
musketry can only be understood by those
who have heard the crash of immense
trees in quick successxon.
Duryea’s Zouaves were lying on the
ground two hours, while our' batteries
were shelling the woods over them.
Finally, towards night, the enemy at-
tempted to break the center line in front
of the Zouavcs, and the musketry firing
became terrifiic, lasting 20 or 30 minutes
after which here was a lull.
Shortly fterwsrd an attempt was
made to break through the right, which
was repulsed. Half an hour later anoth-
er attempt was made on the left with the
same result. The battle had then been
raging for some four hours without any
masterly movement with but little loss in
comparison with his punishment of the
enemy there can be no doubt, and that
tracting his lines, and changing the base
There he will
have the co-operation of the gunboats,
and if the enemy attempts to interrupt
his supply-vessels by making a dash on
the James River, they will meet with
prompt punishment from the gunboats:
and so weaken their forces in front that
the city will fall into his possession with
vicinity of Hanover Court House.—
apparent change or advantage on either
side. Reinforcemeuts of artillery and is-
fantry then came steadily along oirer the
bridge, marching through the heat and
dust over the hill to the field of battle.—
The enemy then seemed to make their last
, desperate, determined effort, and came
forcing our men back into the low ground
between the hill and the bridge, where
they would have been slaughtered by tens
of thousands before they could have
crossed that long, narrow bridge.
Wagons, artillery, ambulances and
men were hurrying toward the bridgo,
and a panic was almost inevitable, hhen
astrqeg guard was placed across the
bridge. ‘ ‘
At the time when the enemy had al«
most reached the main b03pital, onebalf
smile from the river, Meagher’s' Irish-
men came over the hill stripped to the
bare arms, and were ordered to. go to
work. They gave a yell and went to
work, and the result was that the enemy
fell back to the woods, and thus matters
stood up to 11 o’clock Sunday [probably
Saturday] morning. .
FURTHER PARTICULARS.
Another correspondent, speaking, of
the battle of Friday, says : “Twice all
along the front did the bloody and deter-
mined attack cling to our line of battle,
and our rifle pits and redoubts. Porter
"thundered on them wifth fifty_cannon.—-
Sumner’s, Hooker’s and Ayres’ guns
reaped them with a very ‘death harvest.’
Their loss in killed and wounded was
horrible.
We but debate now if our cwn dead.
wounded and missing equal those of the
Seven Pines or exceed theirs.
In the meantime, notwithstanding the
disproportion of numbers, the Union line
is at every point where it was in the
morning, and the heroes behind it are in
heart. ’
The same correspondent, dating Friday
at midnight, says ten guns were taken
from us by a sudden flank attack, cov-
ered by the thick smoke which hang
around the pieces and slowly drifted to
leeward.
A rebel major, taken prisoner by the
Count de Paris, says the whole of Jack-
son’s army was here,and in the attack 'on
our right. The rebels had from 60,000
to 80,000 men. This will explain the
murderous fire under which our men were
borne down and swept away.
Yesterday the Penn. reserve drove
Jackson’s command, but to-day were
overpowered by the same troops relu-
forced. Sykes’ regulars,called up,provod
an equal to the task of stoppingthem and
Slocum’s command had to be added.—
The Count de Paris testifies to the re-
markably good conduct of all» the regi-
ments that sustained the unequal attack
on Porter.
They gave way, indeed, but not one
of them run. Their losses are enormous.
The 11th regular infantry is about anni-
hilated. Nearly every officer is killed or
wounded. The 14th suffered severely.—
Major Roselle of the regulars, a kiusmac
of Gen. McClellan, is killed. Col. Pratt
of a New York regiment is killed and
Lieut. 0015. Black and Sweitzers. Our
loss in ofiicers is very marked.
Indeed the disprOportion in numbers
was so extraordinary, and the obstinscy
of our troops so unyielding that losses
were inevitably large. The artillery in
both Porter’s and Smith’s divisions piled
the rebels in heaps. The fire was horri—
bly effective.
13.. The N. Y. Herald’s report, dated
the 276b, states that our killed, wounded
and missing that the day will reach 1200.
The object of the movement was to
bring Porter’s and other divisions into
more close connection with the rest of the
army; in fact, charging the front of the
whole of our forces, with our center and
left pressing immediately on Richmond
itself, which would be done, it was expec-
ted, on Saturday. It was a virtualslr-
rendering or vacating of the long line of
defence heretofore kept to Mechanicsville
in order to have the whole force within
more effective distance, alga to allow the
rebels to follow up and if possible, to bag
them, Gen. McClellan ordered Porter to
withdraw to two miles this side of Gain’s
Mill curlyFriday morning,which was done,
the encmyfollowing up thinking he could
gain a victory over tr00ps slowly moving
back in order, fighting as they went.—
They crossed the Chickahominy and
reached a position designated for their
occupation by Gen. McClellan. ' The
rebels followed in great force, and by
three o’clock in the afternoon, a general
heavy engagement occurred here, lasting
till seven, when a lull took place. But
the rebels again renewed it with greater
ferocity, having been reinforced. Our
‘ brave men stood the unequal contest like
heroes, and canister, shell, grape and
musketry, did fearful havoc. Our forces
were increased by Gens. Slocum’s, But-
ler’s and French’s brigades,and the rebels
were beaten badly.
Meagar’s brigade went into the battle
with costs 011‘ and sleeves rolled up, fight-
ing like tigers. ,
The ground which Gen. McClellan or-
dered Gen. Porter to occupy and hold,
was occupied and held.
The rebels had 60,000 men under Gena.
Lee, Hill, Anderson and Branch.
Among the killed is Col. Black Ind
Lieut-Col. Sweetzer of the 62d Pa., Col.
Gore of the 22d ‘Mass.,::Col. Roberta of
the 1st Mich, Col. McQu’ade and Lieut.
Col Skillen of the l4lll N. Y., and Maj.
Patterson of the 62d Pa.
Norwalk Chronicler