Franklin Repository

Copperheads Resisting the Draft!
Conscription Offices Destroyed!
A Number of Citizens Killed!
Houses and Stores Plundered!
The Riot Quelled!

On the 13th inst. a mob broke out in New York, ostensibly to resist the draft about to be made, and for three days it defied the civil and military authorities.

The several conscription offices were destroyed; the houses of the Mayor, Post Master and many other building burned, and a number of citizens killed! Every negro found on the street was brutally beaten and many fatally.

Gob. Seymour addressed the mob while rioting, plundering and murdering were going on in several parts of the city, and assured them that he was their friend--that they had been his friends. He assured them that he would stop the draft and begged them in gingerly terms to go home. They did not go however, nor did Seymour get the draft stopped, and after three days of the most shameless parlaying with a mob, he was compelled to issue a third proclamation declaring that the peace of the city must preserved at all hazards.

The military were called out under the command of Gen. Brown, and in several instances had to fire on the mob to disperse them. Col. O'Brien, of the military, was most brutally murdered by the mob.

Thieves of every grade swelled the mob, and it finally became a mere plundering horde. After three days it was completely mastered and order reigns again in Gotham.

The government has given officlai [sic] notice that the draft will be made in New York, and elsewhere without delay.

As a connected narrative of the memorable battles fought on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, the 1st, 2d and 3d of July, near Gettysburg, in Adams county, Pennsylvania, will be valuable for reference, and also satisfactory as a resume of the details furnished in our despatches, we think the following carefully written account will be acceptable to our readers.

Gen. Meade took command of this army on Sunday, the 28th ult. At that time his headquarters were at Frederick, and Lee's at Hagerstown. It will be seen that he was in the southwest, and consequently in the rear of the foe, imminently threatening his line of retreat. The army of the Potomac began its campaign from that moment. Orders were issued to the several corps to move early in the evening, and on the morning of the 29th, our whole brilliant and hopeful host was in motion towards Pennsylvania. The First, Third and Eleventh corps encamped on Tuesday at Emmettsburg; the Second and Twelfth also pitched their tents near by. The Sixth corps marched to Carlisle Wednesday morning, the first day of this [illegible] forever memorable. The First Corps, under Major-General Reynolds, and the Eleventh, under Major-General Howard, started for Gettysburg. Reynolds in command, where they arrived at 10 o'clock, a.m. The corps, in the advance, marched directly through the town. The enemy was discovered posted in a wood to the westward near the Lutheran Theological Seminary. The beginning of the three days' conflict was at hand.

The Battle of Wednesday.

One who has been in the presence, who now sits among the echoes, and whose brain teems with rushing memories of a conflict so recent and so vast, may well pause before attempting to indicate its magnitude or describe its progress. Rash as the advance of Gen. Reynolds has been pronounced by many brother officers who now lament his death. I question whether it was not after all for the best. It served at once as a roconnoissance, [sic] showing the enemy's exact position and probable force, and as a check upon any offensive movement which that enemy might have been intent upon. It secured the Army of the Potomac the commanding position on Cemetery Hill, from which the battles of the two succeeding days were chiefly fought, and which, had the rebel commander anticipated the engagement, he would doubtless have secured for himself. Not less, perhaps, than the skill of the generals who directed the battle on our side, gave us the victory. When, therefore, the heroic First Corps and and [sic] its fated commander placed themselves in the terrible dilemma of Wednesday morning, they won a knowledge by their sacrifice worth all the world to us thereafter. The corps marched in the following order: First division, under Gen. Wadsworth; Third division, under Gen. Doubleday; five fully batteries, under Col. Wainwright; Fourth division, under Gen. Robinson.

A portion of our artillery took position half a mile south of the Seminary. The enemy opened fire on it was such fierceness as forced the batteries to retire, which they commenced doing in good order. Gen. Wadsworth immediately came to their aid; two of his regiments, the 2d Wisconsin and the Twenty-Fourth, Michigan charged the rebel infantry, forcing them to turn to retire. The batteries assumed an excellent position further in the rear, which they held during the day. Gen. Reynolds now rode forward to inspect the field and ascertain the most favorable line for the disposal of his troops. One or two members of his staff were with him. The enemy at that instant poured in a cruel musketry fire upon the group of officers; a bullet struck Gen. Reynolds in the neck, wounding him fatally. Crying out, with a voice that thrilled the hearts of his soldiers, "Forward! For God's sake, forward!" He turned for an instant, beheld the order obeyed by a line of shouting infantry, and falling into the arms of Capt. Wilcos, his aid, who rode beside him, his life went out with the words, "Good God, Wilcos, I am killed."

The command of the corps devolved upon Gen. Doubleday, who hurried to the front, placed it in position, and awaited a charge which it was seen the rebels were about to make. An eminence whereon stood a piece of woods was the important point thenceforth to be defended. The rebels advanced and opened fire from their entire line. They were instantly charged upon by Meredith's Western brigade, who without firing a shot, but with a tremendous cheer, dashed forward with such swiftness as [illegible] found nearly 600 of the feo, [sic] who were taken prisoner. A strong column immediately advanced against us from the woods and, through volley after volley was pourded [sic] into them did not waver. When proximity and strength at last became so threatening that the brigades of the Second division were ordered to make another charge, which was even more successful than the first. Their momentum was like an avalanche; the rebels were shot, bayoneted, and driven to partial retreat, more than two regiments falling into our hands alive. Out ranks suffered fearfully in this demonstration, and it was evident that such fighting could not long go on. The Eleventh corps now made its appearance, and its General (Howard) assumed command of the forces. Steinwehr was ordered to hold Gettysburg and Cemetery hill, all his artillery being placed in the latter position. The other two divisions of the Eleventh corps under Shultz and Barlow, then supported the First corps, on the right in time to resist two desperate charges by Ewell's troops. A third charge was now made by the entire rebel force in front, which comprised the corps of Hill and Ewell, sixty-two thousand strong. The shock was awful. The superior numbers of the foe enabled them to overlap both our flanks, threatening us with surrounding and capture. Their main effort was directed against our left wing and notwithstanding the gallant fighting done by our soldiers at that point, they at last obtained such advantage that Gen. Howard was forced to retire his command through the town to the east, which was done in good order, the compliments of the rebels meanwhile falling thick among it in the shape of shells, grape and canister. The two corps were placed in line of battle on Cemetery Hill at evening, having withstood during the entire day the assaults of an enemy outnumbering them three to one. Not without grief, not without misgiving, did the officers and soldiers of those corps contemplate the day's engagement and await the onset they believed was to come. Their comrades lay in heaps beyond the village, whose spires gleamed peacefully in the sunset before them. Reynolds the beloved and the brave, was dead, and Zook slumbered beside him. D Barlow, Paul, many field and scores of line officers had been killed. The men of the First corps alone could in few instances turn to speak to the ones who stood beside them in the morning without meeting a vacant space. The havoc in that corps was so frightful as to decimate it fully one-half and that in the Eleventh corps [illegible] last man. With what a thrill of relief Gen. Howard, who had sent messenger after messenger during the day to Slocum and Sickles, saw in the distance at evening the approaching bayonets of the Third and Twelfth corps only then can tell who fought beside him. Those corps arrived assumed positions to the right and left of the First and Eleventh, on the heights about Cemetery Hill at dusk. The enemy made no further demonstration that night. Gen. Meade and staff arrived before 11 o'clock. The commandeer then examined the position, and posted the several corps in the following order: the Twelfth (Slocum) on the right the Eleventh (Howard) next, the Second (Hancock) [illegible] (Doubleday) and Third)Sickles) in the center, the Fifth (Sykes) and the [illegible] left. The situation was brilliant commanding. For almost the first time in the history of this army's career belonged the advantage in the [illegible] battles which ensued.

The heights on which our troops were posted sloped gently downward from our front. The line stretched in a semi-circle--its convex centre toward Gettysburg, the [illegible] toward the southwest and south. Ledges on the interior sides gave our soldiers in some instances a partial shelter from artillery. Every road was commanded by our cannon, and the routes by which Lee might otherwise soonest retreat in case of his defeat were all in our possession. At every one weaker than others reserves were judiciously posted, and the cavalry--an arm of the service scarcely brought into play in some recent and destructive battles--protecting both our flanks in immense numbers.

Thus the great army lay down to sleep at midnight and awoke on the morn of a day more sanguinary than the last.

The Battle on Thursday.

On what spectacle the sun of Thursday rose, the memory of at least that portion of our forces who witnessed it from Cemetery Hill will linger forever. From its crest the muzzles of fifty cannon pointed toward the hills beyond the town. From the bluffs to the right and left additional artillery frowned, and away on either side, in a graceful and majestic curve, thousands of infantry moved into battle line, their bayonets gleaming like serpents' scales. The roofs of Gettysburg in the valley below, the rifs of woodland along the borders of Rock creek, the orchards far down on the left, the fields green and beautiful, in which the cattle were calmly grazing, composed a scene of such peace as it appeared was never made to be marred by the clangor of battle. I strolled out to the cemetery were the dew was yet melted from the grass, and leaned against a monument to listen to the singing of birds. One note, milder than the rest, had just broken from the throat of an oriole in the foliage above me when the sullen rattle of musketry on the left told that skirmishing had begun. Similar firing soon opened along the entire rebel line, and although no notable demonstration was made during the forenoon, it was apparent that the enemy was feeling our strength preliminary to some decisive effort.

The day wore on full of anxious suspense. It was not until four o'clock in the afternoon that the enemy gave voice in earnest.

He then began heavy fire on Cemetery Hill. It must not be thought that this wrathful fire was unanswered. Our artillery began to play within a few moments and hurled back defiance and like destruction upon the rebel lines. Until six o'clock the road of cannon, the rush of missiles and the bursting of bombs filled all the air. The [illegible] alone of this awful combat might well have confused and awed a less cool and watchful commander than General Meade. It did not confuse him. With the calculation of a tactician and the eye of an experienced judge he watched from his headquarters on the hill whatever movement under the murky cloud which enveloped the rebel lines might first disclose the intention which it was evident this artillery firing covered. About six o'clock p.m., silence, deep, awfully impressive, but [illegible] was permitted as if by magic to dwell upon the field. Only the groans unheard before of the wounded and dying, only the murmur --a morning memory--of the breeze through the foliage, only the low rattle, of preparation for what was to come, embroidered this black stillness. Then, as the smoke beyond the village was lightly borne [illegible] the eastward, the woods on the left were seen filled with dark masses of infantry, three columns deeps, who advanced at a quickstep. Magnificent! Such a charge by such a force--full 45,000 then, under Hill and Longstreet--even though it threatened to pierce and annihilate the 3d Corps, against which it was directed, drew forth cries of admiration from all who beheld it. General Sickles and his splendid command withstood the shock with a determination that checked, but could not fully restrain it. Back, inch by inch, fighting, falling, dying, cheering, the men retired. The rebels came on more furiously, halting at intervals, pouring volleys that struck our troops down in scores.

General Sickles, fighting desperately, was struck in the leg and fell. The 2d Corps come [sic] to the aid of his decimated column.--The battle then grew fearful. Standing firmly up against the storm, our troops, though still outnumbered , gave back shot for shot, volley for volley, almost death for death. Still the enemy was not restrained. Down he came upon our left with a momentum that nothing could check. The rifled guns that lay before our infantry on a knoll were in danger of capture. Gen. Hancock was wounded in the thigh, General Gibbon was wounded in the thigh, General Gibbon in the shoulder. The 5th Corps, as the 1st and 2d wavered anew, went into the breach with such shouts and such volleys as made the rebel column tremble at last. Up from the valley behind, another battery came rolling to the heights and flung its contents in an instant down in the midst of the enemy's ranks. Crash! Crash! With discharges deafening, terrible, the musketry firing went on; the enemy, reforming after each discharge with wondrous celerity and firmness, still pressed up the declivity. What hideous carnage filled the minutes between the appearance of the 5th Corps and the advance to the support of the rebel columns of still another column from the right, I can not bear to tell. Men fell as the leaves fall in autumn before those horrible discharges.--Faltering for an instant, the rebel columns seemed about to recede before the tempest. But their officers, who could be seen through the smoke of the conflict galloping and swinging their swords along the lines, rallied them anew, and the next instant the whole line sprang forward as if to break through our own by mere weight of numbers. A division from the 12th Corps from the right reached the scene at this instant, and at the same time Sedgwick came up with the 6th corps, having finished a march of nearly thirty-six consecutive hours. To what rescue they came, their officers saw and told them. Weary as they were, bare-footed, hungry, fit to drop for slumber as they were, the will for victory was so blended with the thought of exhaustion that they [illegible] en masse into line of battle, and went down on the enemy with death in their weapons and cheers on their lips. The rebel camel's back was broken by this "feather."--His line staggered, reeled, and drifted slowly back, while the shouts of our soldiers lifed [sic] up amid the roar of musketry over the bodies of the dead and wounded, proclaimed the completeness of their victory. Meanwhile, as the division of Slocum's corps on the extreme right left its post to join in this triumph, another column of the enemy under command of Gen. Ewell, had dashed savagely against our weakened right wing, and as the failure to turn our left became known it seemed as if determination to conquer in this part of the field overcame alike the enemy's fear of death and his plan for victory elsewhere. The fighting was terrific, and for fifteen minutes the attack to which the three division of the 12th Corps were subjected was more furious than anything every known in the history of this army. The 6th corps came to their support, and 1st corps followed; and from dusk into darkness, until half past nine o'clock, the battle raged with varied fortune and unabated fury. Out troops were compelled by overpowering numbers to fall back a short distance, abandoning several rifle-pits and an advantageous position to the enemy, who, haughty over his advantage and made desperate by defeat in other quarters, then made a last struggling charge against that division of our right wing commanded by Gen. Geary. General Gear's troops immortalized themselves by their resistance to this attempt. They stood like adamant, a moveless, death-dealing machine, before whose volleys the rebel columns withered and went down by hundreds. After a slaughter inconceivable the repulse of Ewell was complete, and he retired at ten o'clock p.m. to the position before referred to. The firing from all quarters of the field ceased soon after that hour, and no other attach was made until morning.

The Battle of Friday.

As one who stands in a tower and looks down upon a lengthy pageant marching through a thoroughfare, finds it impossible at the close to recall in order the appearances and the incidents of the scene, so I, who sit this evening on a camp-stool beside the ruins of the monument against which I leaned listening to the robin of yesterday, find it impossible to recall with distinctness the details of the unparalleled battle just closed. The conflict, waged by 160,000 men, which has occupied with scarcely an interval of rest, the entire day, from 4 a.m. until 6 o'clock this evening, contains so much, so near, and such voluminous matter of interest as one mind cannot grasp without time for reflection.

The last engagement has been the fiercest and most sanguinary of the war. It was begun at daylight by Gen. Slocum, whose troops, maddened by the loss of many comrades, and eager to retrieve the position lost by them on the preceding evening, advanced and delivered a destructive fire against the rebels under Ewell. That general's entire force responded with a charge that is memorable even beyond those made by them yesterday. It was desperation against courage! The fire of the enemy was mingled with yells, pitched even above its clangor. They came on, and on, and on, while the national troops, splendidly handled and well posted, stood unshaken to receive them. The fire with which they did receive them was so rapid and so thick as to envelope the ranks of its deliverers with a pall that shut them from sight during the battle which raged thenceforward for six dreary hours. Out of this pall no straggler came to the rear. The line scarcely flinched from its position during the entire conflict. Huge masses of rebel infantry threw themselves into it again and again in vain. Back, as a ball hurled against a rock, these masses recoiled, and were reformed to be hurled anew against it with a fierceness unfruitful of success--fruitful of carnage as before. The strong position occupied by Gen. Geary, and that held by Gen. Birney, met the first and hardest assaults, but only fell back a short distance before fearful odds, to re-advance, to re-assume and to hold their place in company with Sykes' division of the Fifth corps and Humphrey's (Berry's old division) of the Third, when, judiciously reinforced with artillery, they renewed and continued the contest until its close. It seemed as if the gray- uniformed troops, who were advanced and re-advanced by their officers up to the very edge of the line of smoke in front of our infantry, were impelled by some terror in their rear, which they were as unable to withstand as they were to make headway against the fire in their front. It was hard to believe such desperation voluntary. It was harder to believe that the courage which withstood and defeated it was mortal.

The enemy gradually drew forward his whole line until in many places a hand to hand conflict raged for minutes. His artillery, answered by ours, played upon our column with frightful result, yet they did not waver. The battle was in this way evenly contested for a time but at a time when it seemed problematical which side would gain the victory, a reinforcement arrived and were formed in line at such a position as to [illegible] the enemy and teach him at last the futility of his efforts. Disordered, routed, and confused, his whole force retreated, and at 11 o'clock the battle ceased and the stillness of death ensued. The silence continued until 1 P.M. At this moment the rebel artillery from all pointed, in a circle radiating around our own, began a terrific and concentrated fire on Cemetery Hill, which was held, as I have previously stated, by the Eleventh and Second corps. The flock or pigeons, which not ten minutes previous had darkened the sky above were scarcely thicker than the flock of horrible missiles that now, instead of sailing harmlessly above, descended upon our position. The atmosphere was thick with shot and shell. The storm broke upon us so suddenly that soldiers and officers--who leaped, as it began, from their tents, or from lazy siestas on the grass--were stricken in their rising with mortal wounds and died, some with cigars between their teeth, some with pieces of food in their fingers, and one at least--a pale young German, from Pennsylvania--with a miniature of his sister in his hands, that seemed more meet to grasp an artist's pencil than a musket. Horses fell, shrieking such awful cries as Cooper told of, and writhing about in helpless agony. The boards of fences, scattered by explosion, flew in splinters through the air. The earth, torn, up in clouds, blinded the eyes of hurrying men; and through the branches of the trees, and among the grave-stones of the cemetery a shower of destruction crashed ceaselessly. As, with hundred of others, I groped through this tempest of death for the shelter of the bluff, an old man, a private in a company belonging to the 24th Michigan, was struck scarcely ten feet away by a cannon ball, which tore through him, extorting such a low, intense cry of mortal pain as I pray God I may never again hear. The hill, which seemed alone devoted to this rain of death, was clear in nearly all its unsheltered places within five minutes after the fire began.

Our batteries responded immediately.--Three hours of cannonading ensued, exceeding in fierceness any ever known. Probably three hundred cannon were fired simultaneously until 4 o'clock, when the rebel infantry were again seen massing in the woods fronting our centre, formed by the First and Second corps. Gen. Doubleday's troops met this charge with the same heroic courage that had so often repelled the enemy in his desperate attempts. The charge was made spiritedly, but less venomously than before. Gen.. Webb, commanding the Second brigade, Second division of the Second corps, met the main fury of the attack with a steady fire that served to retard the enemy's advance for a moment. That moment was occupied by the rebel General Armistead in steadying his troops behind the fence. Gen. Webb immediately ordered a charge, which was made with such eagerness and swiftness, and supported by such numbers of our troops, as enabled us to partially surround the enemy, and capture Gen. Armistead and 3,000 of his men. The carnage which accompanied this charge and the terror inspired by it were so great as to reduce the foe to actual cowardice. They fell upon their knees and faces, holding forward their guns and begging for mercy, while their escaped comrades, panic-stricken and utterly routed rushed down across the ditches and fences through the fields and through Gettysburg. Not a column remained to make another start. The triumph fought for during these three terrible days belonged at last to the noble Army of the Potomac.

Traces of the Struggle at the Cemetery.

Monuments and head-stones lie here and there overturned. Graves, once carefully tended by some loving hand, have been trampled by horses feet until the vestiges of verdure have disappeared. The neat and well-trained shrubbery has vanished or is but a broken and withered mass of tangled brush-wood. On one grave lies a dead artillery horse, fast decomposing under the July sun. On another lie the torn garments of some wounded soldier, stained and saturated with his blood. Across a small headstone, bearing the words, "To the memory of our beloved child, Mary" lie the fragment of a musket shattered by a cannon shot. In the centre of a space enclosed by an iron fence, and containing a half dozen graves, a few rails are still standing where they were erected by our soldiers and served to support the shelter tents of a bivouacking squad. A family shaft has been broken in fragment by a shell, and only the base remains, with a portion of the inscription thereon. Stone after stone felt the effects of the feu d'enfer that was poured upon the crest of the hill. Cannon thundered, and foot and horse soldiers trampled over the sleeping place of the dead. Other dead were added to those who are resting here, and many a wounded soldier still lives to remember the contest above those silent graves.

Position of Cemetery Hill--Its Importance.

The hill on which this cemetery is located was the centre of our line of battle and the key to the whole position. Had the rebels been able to carry this point, they would have forced us into retreat, and the whole battle would have been lost. To pierce our line here was Lee's great endeavor, and he threw his best brigades against it. Wave after wave of living valor rolled up that slope only to roll back again under the deadly fire of our artillery and infantry. It was on this hill, a little to the right of the cemetery where occurred the charge of the famous brigade of Louisiana Tigers. It was their boast that they were never yet foiled in an attempt to take a battery, but on this occasion they suffered a defeat and nearly annihilation. Sad and dispirited they mourn their repulse and terrible losses in the charge.

The Rebel Dead.

Retracing my steps, before reaching the extreme left, I returned to the centre of our position, on the Cemetery Hill. I do not follow the path by which I come, but take a route along the hollow, between the two ridges. It was across this hollow that the charges were made in the assault upon our position. Much blood was poured out between these two swells of land. Most of the dead have been buried where they fell, or gathered in little clusters beneath some spreading tree or beside clumps of bushes. Some of the rebel dead are still uncovered. The first that meets my gaze I come upon suddenly, as I descend a bank, some three or four feet in height, to the side of a small spring. He is lying near the spring, as if he had crawled there to obtain a draught of water. His hands are outspread upon the earth, and clutching at the little tufts of grass beneath them. His haversack and canteen are still hanging on him, and his hat is lying near him. His musket is gone; either carried off by his comrades, [sic] taken by some relic seeker, or placed in the accumulated heap by our own soldiers.

The body of another rebel attracts my attention by a singular circumstance. The fact is discolored in the extreme, black as that of the purest Congo negro. The hands are as delicate as those of a lady and of snowy whiteness. With the exception of the face, the body is but little swollen, and there are no signs of the commencement of decomposition. Several bodies that I find show blackened faces, but no others than this display such a contrast between the color of the face and hands. Near a small white house on the rebel line lies the body of an officer, evidently a lieutenant or captain. His right arm is extended as if to grasp the hand of a friend. All possible positions in which a dying man can fall can be noticed on this field.

Shelling General Meade's Headquarters

The little farm house on the Emmettsburg road, where General Meade held his headquarters during the cannonade is most fearfully cut up. It is already known how Gen. Lee masked his artillery and opened with one hundred and thirty pieces at the same moment. Two shells in every second of time fell around those headquarters. The shells tore through the little white building exploding and scattering their fragments in every direction. Not a spot anywhere was safe. One shell through the doorstep, another in the chimney, a third shattering a rafter, a fourth cutting off the legs of a chair in which a staff officer was seated; other severed and splintered the posts in front of the house, howled through the trees by which the dwelling was surrounded, and raised deep furrows of the soft earth. At the fence in front of the building the horses of aids and orderlies were standing. A dozen of the frightened animal fell by the rebel projectiles, and other broke away and fled in the wildest fright towards the rear. One staff officer, and another, and another, were wounded. Strange to say, amid all this iron hail, no one of the staff was killed. Every man stared death full in the face, and had little prospect of escaping unhurt. Rarely in the history of war has there been a scene to equal this.

Lee's Address to his Army.

Frederick, July 12, 1863.--The following general order of General R. E. Lee to the Rebel army, issued from Hagerstown, on Saturday, was found when General Kilpatrick entered the town on Sunday morning:

General Order--No. 16

Headquarters, Army of Northern Virginia, July 11, 1863.--After the long and trying marches endured with the fortitude that has ever characterized the soldiers of the Army of Northern Virginia, you have penetrated to the country of our enemies, and recalled to the defense of their own soil those who were engaged in the invasion of ours. You have fought a fierce and sanguinary battle, which, if not attended with the success that has hitherto crowned your efforts, was marked by the same heroic spirit that has commanded the respect of your enemies, the gratitude of your country, and the admiration of mankind.

Once more you are called upon to meet the enemy from whom you have torn so many fields, the names of which will never die. Once more the eyes of your countrymen are turned upon you, and again do wives and sisters, fathers and mothers, and helpless children, lean for defense on your strong arms and brave hearts. Let every soldier remember that on his courage and fidelity depends all that makes life worth having, the freedom of his country, the honor of his people and the security of his home. Let each heart grow strong in the remembrances of our glorious past, and in the thought of the inestimable blessings for which we contend; and invoking the assistance of that benign Power which has signally blessed our former efforts, let us go forth in confidence to secure the peace and safety of our country. Soldiers, your old enemy is before you. Win from him honor worth of your right cause; worthy of your comrades dead on so many illustrious fields.

R. E. Lee, Gen. Com.

We take the following remarkable article from the Richmond Enquirer, of June 12th, in which the whole tribe of Peace Sneaks, who are endeavoring to embarras [sic] the Government, and thus give aid and comfort to the Rebels, are brought under the old-time slave-driver's lash:

Two Years Hence.

In two years, as many persons hope, we may probably have peace--that is, always provided we continue to repulse and defeat the invading enemy. The Yankee "Democracy" is certainly arousing itself and preparing for a new struggle (at the ballot box,) in the great cause of the "spoils," or as they call it, the cause of Constitutional Liberty. Those democrats are evidently beginning to raise a Peace platform for their next Presidential election, and if they have the good luck to be helped on and sustained by more and more serious disasters of the Yankee army in the field, there is no doubt that the present devourers of the said spoils at Washington may soon be so discredited and decried that our enemy's country would be ripe for such peaceful ballot-box revolution.

It is sincerely to be hoped that those earnest champions of constitutional freedom will be helped on and sustained in the manner they require--namely, by continued and severe reverses in the field; and it is the first and most urgent duty of our countrymen so to help and sustain the Democratic party.--It is nothing to us which of their factions may devour the "spoils," just as little does it signify to us whether they recover or do not recover that constitutional liberty which they so wantonly threw away in the mad pursuit of Southern conquest and plunder. But it is of the utmost importance to us to aid in stimulating disaffection among Yankees against their own Government, and in demoralizing and disintegrating society in that God-abandoned country! We can do this only in one way--namely, by thrashing their armies and carrying the war to their own firesides. Then, indeed, conscientious constitutional principles will hold sway; peace platforms will look attractive; arbitrary arrests will become odious, and habeas corpus be quoted at a premium. This is the only way we can help them. In this sense, and to this entent, [sic] those Democrats are truly our allies, and we shall endeavor to do our duty by them.

But they evidently look for other and further help at our hands, and of quite a different sort. No doubt they are pleased for the present, with the efficient aid which the Confederate army is affording them. [illegible] was a God-send to them, and the tremendous repulse at Port Hudson is quite a plank in their platform. Yet they understand very well that no matter how soundly their armies may be happily beaten; no matter how completely Lincoln's present war policy may be condemned by its results, yet all this will not be enough to enable the unterrified Democracy to clutch the "spoils,"--or, as they phrase it, to restore the Constitution of their fathers. This, of itself would never give them a Peace-Democrat President and Cabinet; it would only result in another Abolitionist administration with a New Secretary of War, and a new Commander-in- Chief, and a slightly different programme for "crushing the rebellion." Those Black Republicans are in power; after long waiting, pining, intriguing in the cold shade of the opposition; and they have now the numerical preponderance so decidedly that they both can and will hold on to the offices with a clutch like death. The Democrats can do absolutely nothing withont [sic] "the South," as they persist in terming these Confederate States; and they cannot bring themselves to admit the thought that we would refused to united with them (as alas ! We used to do) in a grand Universal Presidential campaign, for a Democratic President, with a Peace platform, and the "Constitution as it is." In fact, this whole two years' war, and the two years' more war which has yet to be gone through, is itself, in their eyes, only a Presidential campaign, only somewhat more vivacious than ordinary.

This explains the Vallandigham Peace Meetings in New York and New Jersey and the "manly declarations" of Mrs. Horatio Seymour and other patriots. "Do not let us forget," said Fernando Wood, writing to the Philadelphia meeting, "that those who perpetrate such outrages as the arrest and banishment of Mr. Vallandigham, do so as necessary war measures. Let us, therefore, strike at the cause and declare for peace and against the war."

This would sound very well if the said "declaring for peace" could have any effect whatever in bringing about peace. If a man falling from a tower could arrest his fall by declaring against it, then the declarations of Democrats against the war might be of some avail. As it is, they resemble that emphatic pronouncement of Mr. Washington Hunt: "Let it be proclaimed upon the housetops, that no citizen of New York shall be arrested without process of law." There is no use of brawling from the housetops what everybody knows to be nonsense. Or this resolution of the New Jersey meeting:

Resolved, That in the illegal seizure and banishment of the Hon. C. L. Vallandigham, the laws of our country have been outraged, the name of United States disgraced, and the rights of every citizen menaced, and that it is now the duty of a law respecting people to demand of the Administration that it at once and forever desist from such deeds of despotism and crime. [Enthusiasm.]

Deman[illegible]? The starling that Mr. Sterne saw in the cage, said only "I can't get out." It would have been more "manly" to scream, "I demand to get out--I proclaim on the housetops that I will get out."

Another of the New Jersey resolutions throws an instructive light upon this whole movement, and its objects.

Resolved, That we renew our declaration of attachment to the Union, pledging to its friends, wherever found out unwavering support, and to its enemies, in whatever guise, our undying hostility, and that, God, willing, we will stand by the Constitution and laws of our country, and under their sacred shield will maintain and defend our liberty and rights, "peaceably if can forcibly if we must." [Great cheering.]

This phrase, "wherever found," implies that there are friends of the union in this Confederacy, and the resolution obligingly pledges to them the support of the New Jersey Democracy--not surely without an equivalent return.

To the same meeting, Gen. Fitz John Porter writes a letter, declaring, of course, for the Constitution and resistance to despotism, and ending thus:

"The contest of arms, however, will not be required; the certain and peaceful remedy will be found in the ballot-box. Let us all possess our souls in patience. The remedy is ours."

Gen. FitzJohn knows well that the remedy is not theirs, unless "the South" consent to throw its votes into that same ballot-box, and it is for this, and this only, that the Democratic book is bated with "Peace." But in a speech of Senator Wall, of New Jersey, before a Democratic Club of Philadelphia (which we find printed in The Sentinel,), is a passage more fully expounding the Democratic plan than any other we have seen. He says:

Subjugation and annihilation being alike impossible, I am in favor of an immediate cessation of hostilities, for an armistice--that amid the lull of the strife the heat of passion shall have time to cool, and the calm, majestic voice of reason can be heard. In the midst of such a calm I am for endeavoring to learn from those in arms against us what their demands may be, and inviting their co-operation in the name of a common humanity, to some place of reconciliation or reconstruction, by which the sections may united upon a more stable basis--a plan in which the questions upon which we have differed so long may be harmoniously adjusted, and each section, by virtue of the greatness developed in this war, may profit by the experience. If it shall be found that sectional opinion and prejudices are too obstinate, and the exasperations of this war have burnt too deep to settle it upon the basis of reconciliation or reconstruction, then I know that separation and reconstruction are inevitable."

Here is the whole plan; an armistice, and then "inviting our co-operation." During that armistice they hope that the "calm, majestic voice of reason" and a "common Christianity" might do something considerable.--The game, as they calculate, would then be on the board, with stakes so tempting! Mr. Wall would endeavor "to learn from us what our demands are."

Anything in reason he would be prepared to grant us; but if we replied, our demands are, that you bring away your troops from every inch of our soil, that you leave the Border States free to decide on their own destiny, that you evacuate all our forts and towns which you now hold, and make us rid of you and the whole breed of you forever, then Mr. Wall would exclaim, What! do you call that the calm, majestic voice of reason? Is that your common Christianity? He would say, when I spoke of the calm majestic, &c., I meant the spoils; when I said a common Christianity, I meant money. Let us talk rationally--how much common Christianity will you take?

In vain is a net spread in the sight of any bird. We are aware of them; and we will watch them well, and the friends of the Union, "wheresoever found." Our views go a little further than theirs--we hope to so disorganize and disintegrate society in their country that they will rush into armed revolution and anarchy. We spit upon their ballot-box. We care not what they "demand" in resolutions, nor what helpless trash they proclaim on the housetops. We do not believe in their power to attain so much as an armistice for two years to come. It an armistice, indeed, were offered, and the invading troops were withdrawn, of course we should not object to it, and good use could be made of it.

But, mark well, ye armistice mongers: During that suspension of hostilities all negotiations must be between Government and Government. Our lines should be more strictly guarded than ever. No negotiations or fraternization of parties by public meetings or private conferences: no bargaining with the calm voice of reason; no secret pocketing of Wall's "Common Christianity."

But armistice there will be none, and we are glad of it. Our sovereign independence is already won and paid for with treasurers of brave blood. It shall not be sold by peddlers to be built into a Yankee platform.

The popular disappointment at the retreat of Lee, with the remnant of his army, across the Potomac with comparative safety, is keen and undisguised. With many the unreasonable hope was cherished with confidence that Lee would be utterly destroyed or captured; but with the more reflecting there prevailed a conviction that Gen Meade would deliver battle with every chance of success, and that the rebel hosts would be routed and practically destroyed as an army.

It is possible that General Meade could have engaged Lee on Monday of last week, and routed him. Certainly had he known how helpless Lee was just then, with part of his artillery already across the river, the destruction of Lee could have been attained. But Gen. Meade must not be judged and censured rashly. A glance at the map given on our first page will show what an herculean task he had to perform. It must be borne in mind, too, that Lee had gained possession of the South Mountain passes from the Potomac up to the Gettysburg turnpike, before Gen. Meade had command of the Army, and that Lee's open line of retreat was in his own hands and beyond the power of Meade to interrupt.

Lee commenced his retreat on Saturday morning, July 4th, of course presenting a strong front to Meade until his artillery and baggage were safely out of reach. He then withdrew his rear guard, leaving his dead and wounded to the tender mercies of the Union commander. Lee had thus full twenty-four hours start of Meade in his movement, and he was falling back toward his base and shortening his lines, while the pursuit by Meade extended his lines and involved immense transportation of provisions and ammunition over two mountains and bad roads.

Lee had but to recross the South Mountain into Franklin county by the Gettysburg and Monterey passes, and from thence had a straight line to the river, reaching his new position in a march of thirty miles. On the other hand Meade's army had been brought to Gettysburg by the most exhausting forced marches, with the smallest possible amount of transportation, and the very hour his troops reached there the engagement commenced, and for three days it raged with the deadliest fury until full twenty thousand of his gallant warriors were numbered with the dead, wounded and captured. Although victorious in holding his position and utterly defeating and turning back the rebel hordes under Lee, still the shock of that battle, with the dead and wounded of both armies in his hands. Left his army in a sorry condition for prompt pursuit. He did pursue, however, as rapidly as was possible to move and supply his men; but he had to march nearly thirty miles to Frederick, thence across the Catoctin and South mountains to Boonsboro, nearly twenty miles more, and then found the rebel lines extending from Shepperdstown to Williamsport, (as marked on the map by dotted lines) and also covering Hagerstown. He promptly made reconnoisances from Boonsboro to the Antietam, to Funkstown and Hagerstown, and Sedgwich compelled Lee to retreat from the Shepperdstown ford and shorten his line immediately around Williamsport.

The position thus chosen by Lee was one of singular strength naturally, and was fortified so as to make it almost impregnable. Meade might have attacked it successfully on Sunday, but at a sacrifice of nearly two of his brave veterans to one of the enemy; and even if successful in driving Lee from his chosen and fortified position--a success as yet never achieved by either side in this war, although attempted by Burnside at Fredericksburg and Lee at Gettysburg--Lee could still have retreated up the Potomac, and, if pressed, could have chosen a position at Hancock in the mountains from which double the force of Meade could not dislodge him. With an adequate force on the south side of the Potomac, he might there have suffered capture; but he could scarcely have failed to make good his escape across the river before the Union army could have been thus disposed to cut off his retreat.

We doubt not that Meade manoeuvered his army under positive instructions from the Commander-in-Chief not to uncover Washington, or in other words, not to deliver battle with the enemy between him and the National Capitol. The peril of this movement doubtless prevented Meade from throwing his army around from Boonsboro' to Hagerstown to attack Lee from the West on his comparatively unprotected left flank. But such a change in the Union forces could not have been made for an attack in less than twenty-four hours, and Lee would have simply declined battle by crossing the Potomac, as it was passable by the time Meade could have reached a position on his left.

It is due to Gen. Meade, who so nobly redeemed Northern soil from rebel invasion by his skill and heroism at Gettysburg, that the almost immeasurable difficulties which confronted him in the pursuit and attempt to engage Lee again, should be known and duly considered. Had he hurled his decimated army upon Lee's fortified lines on Saturday or Sunday and suffered a repulse, Lee would have been re-inforced and renewed his offensive movements upon our soil; and the fruits of the deeply crimsoned victory of Gettysburg would have been lost. Instead of Lee retreating with a shattered, dispirited and hopeless army upon Richmond, Meade would now be retreating with the gallant Army of the Potomac upon the defences of Baltimore and Washington. Disappointed as we must be that Lee has not been destroyed, let us be thankful for the rich fruits of Meade's signal though incomplete triumph, rather than ungenerous in our exactions.

We have read much, not only in this, but in other campaigns during this war of the certainty of "bagging" rebel armies; but in field operations such results are simply impossibilities. Burnside was defeated at Fredericksburg with a river in his rear, commanded by rebel batteries yet he withdrew his army safely, losing his dead and wounded. Hooker was defeated at Chancellorsville with a river in his rear swollen to the angriest tide. And Sedgwick was at the same time repulsed with fearful loss on the Fredericksburg heights,--yet both re-crossed their commands in safety in the very face and under the very guns of a rebel commander to whom masterly ability is conceded by friend and foe. Nor did Hooker and Burnside withdraw their commands from before an army worn out by forced marches, and just from fields dripping with the gore of full one-fourth their comrades who entered the battle. Lee's army was comparatively fresh and on its long occupied ground after the battles of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, and their loss in neither engagement equaled ours. Yet the Union army retreated in safety, as did Lee from the front of Meade, nor was Lee held as wanting in ability or energy because he did not "bag" Burnside and Hooker. And it is worthy of consideration that the repulses of Burnside and Sedgwick at Fredericksburg, and the disastrous repulse of Lee at Gettysburg, were the results of attacks against skillfully selected and fortified positions just such as Lee held and Meade must have assailed at Williamsport. Let us deal justly if not generously with our heroes, and sustain and strengthen their hearts for future triumphs, rather than cripple them with ill-considered and unmerited criticism. Gen. Meade has done well--who has done better?

Henry J. Stahle, of the Gettysburg Compiler, was arrested by Gen. Meade as soon as he gained possession of the town, and sent as a prison to Fort McHenry. We cannot form any judgment as to the guilt of Mr. Stahle from the statement and denials on the Gettysburg papers. It is alleged that he gave the reels information where the Union troops and property were concealed, and rendered himself in other respects useful to the enemy.

We trust that Mr. Stahle has not been arrested and imprisoned without a purpose. If he has been guilty of the charges preferred against him, he should be promptly tried by a military court, convicted and shot,--if innocent, he should be allowed an early opportunity to establish it and be discharged. It is high time that military arrests should be understood as meaning something beyond imprisonment without notice of charges and release without explanation. Had Daniel Dechert, of Hagerstown, been tried, convicted and inexorably executed, as he richly deserved, when he was detected as a spy within our lines, corresponding with and furnishing maps to bring the enemy to his own home, justice would have been vindicated and a wholesome practical lesson would have been learned by semi-traitors along the entire border. We insist that military arrests shall mean the prompt trial and conviction or acquittal of the accused, and that the penalty of treason, when clearly shown to extend to positive acts of hostility to the Government, shall be death. It is alike just and humane to the loyal people of the North that they shall not be the victims of cowardly spies and traitors at home; and if Mr. Stahle has by his acts brought himself within that class, he should die. But if he is the victim of personal or political prejudice, or of the inflamed public feeling naturally resulting from the shock of battle between the great armies at Gettysburg, he should have early and ample opportunity to vindicate himself, and be discharged to prove his devotion to the Government by an earnest support of the prosecution of the war. In this particular, we must confess, he has room for improvement.

We have unofficial but reliable information that Gen. Lee lost at the battles of Gettysburg fully 6,000 killed; 10,00 wounded left in our hands; 7,000 wounded taken with him on foot and in wagons; and not less than 12,000 in prisoner and deserters--making a total loss of not less than 35000. He crossed but 41,000 men over the Potomac on his retreat, which, excepting a few cavalry, is the entire force he has taken back to Virginia. But a month ago he crossed into Maryland with over 80,000 men. Gen. Meade's loss at Gettysburg was about 4,500 killed, 10,000 wounded and 4,000 captured.

Andrews, the leader of the New York rioters, who maltreated or murdered every negro found on the streets, was captured on Wednesday at a house of ill-fame with a negro paramour. He was the chieftain of those whom Gov. Seymour addressed as "my friends," and to whom he gave positive assurance of friendship in a public speech while rioting, butchery and plundering were going on all around him. Progressive Democracy that!

The retreat of Lee with his rebel horde across the Potomac ends all fears of future invasions by the enemy in force; but we shall be constantly liable to rebel cavalry raids unless we take efficient measures to have such a military organization as can defend against such marauding expeditions. It is not probable that the theatre of war will be in close proximity to the Potomac for some time; but being just upon the border, we may be visited at any time by a guerrilla band, such as Mosby's and suffer much thereby.

We do not know what disposition will be made of the militia by Gen. Couch, the commander of this Department; but however ample may be his force for ordinary occasions, it is due to ourselves that we have a reserve force that could be called into service in an hour's notice. We entreat our young men of military experience to hasten the organization of an artillery company. None by reliable and punctual men should be taken in it. We are assured that a battery of artillery can be had for such an organization, with ammunition, &c., complete, and with a little care we could soon have a company, which for local defence would be worth thrice its number of improvised militias. We should by all means have a battery here all the time; but we can secure one only by having an effective organization to man it. We trust that this important movement will not be longer delayed.

It is equally important that we should have not less than three, and if possible five, cavalry companies organized, equipped and drilled at stated periods. We presume that Gen. Couch would still receive into service in his Department several hundred men, and uniform, arm and equip them, if they would furnish their own horses, for which they would be paid the regular government rates. When relieved from service, these men could keep up their organizations and be ready to answer a call for defence of the border at any moment. Instead of having terror and confusion amongst our people when threatened with a raid, our cavalry could be in the field at once, and scout the lines, ambuscade [sic] the foe, and make marauding a most dangerous business. One thousand men, with some experience and well commanded, would have made Jenkins' first advent into the county quite too uncomfortable for him to remain a whole week stealing at his leisure; and the fact that it has been done once, gives abundant promise that it will be done again unless we prepare to meet it. We earnestly urge upon our citizens, especially the young men who have horses, to take prompt measures to organize cavalry volunteer companies, to be ready to respond to a call at any time for the defence of the board.

Important as are Artillery and Cavalry organizations for the purpose of securing us against raids, it is scarcely less important that infantry companies should be organized in every district and drilled as much as possible. Indeed every able-bodied man, or rather every man who is able to walk or pull a trigger, should in some way be prepared to aid in the common defence against rebel plundering expeditions. It must be remembered that the opening of the Mississippi cuts half the entire territory of the South from the so-called Confederacy, and vast supplies were steadily received from south-west of the river. Texas being thus isolated, the present suffering of the rebels must daily increase, and necessity will drive them to plunder every section of country within their reach; and what section is so easily reached and so rich in what they most need, as the Cumberland Valley: We believe that we are now abundantly able to protect ourselves with the aid the government can render us, and let us not be humiliated and robbed again for want of organization and effort on the part of our own people.

The brief, disastrous career of Gen. Lee on Northern soil was marked by the most reckless inhumanity to his own unfortunate warriors. Even when flushed with the high hope of success, those who died from disease, or skirmishes, were buried, if at all, in rude holes scarcely large enough to hid the bodies, and his sick were left in Chambersburg without medical or other supplies, and that too after he had robbed our Druggists of all medicines, and destroyed our hospital goods. After his repulse at Gettysburg, he commenced his retreat without even trying to bury his dead or minister to his thousands of wounded who could not be removed. To his foe he left the lifeless forms of five thousand of his troops for sepulchre, and full ten thousand of those most seriously wounded were allowed to lie on the gory field to writhe in agonies or die, unless the humanity of strangers, whose homes they sought to desolate should in mercy care for them. The lines of his retreat were strewn with exhausted men,--some dying from wounds, some prostrated by overexertion and disease, and they were left unpitied and unburied. Those who were but slightly wounded at Gettysburg were compelled to march with the wagons in which were placed such as were unable to walk. Not less than from eight to ten thousand were thus straggling in sullen, almost despairing efforts to reach the Potomac. The wagons filled with wounded were driven rapidly to escape capture, and the entire line was hideous with the agonizing shrieks of the sufferers whose shattered limbs were thrown from side to side by the uneven roads. Those who found relief in death were often thrown remorselessly into a field or fence-corner, and left to the humanity of enemies. From Hagerstown to Williamsport the same revolting scenes were witnessed after Lee's final retreat across the Potomac. Nearly every house on his route, including many in Williamsport, was left filled with his wounded, without medical stores or food, and those who still survive, are a charge upon the kindness of the loyal people to whom, according to the Richmond Enquirer, Lee was to minister with "fire and sword."

There can no longer be any doubt that Messrs. Dr. James Hamilton, Adam B. Hamilton, J. P. Culbertson, D. M. Eiker, George R. Caufman, Chas. W. Kinsler, George S. Heck, A. C. M'Grath, Thomas M'Dowell, Martin Hoover, James Anderson, James King, Jr., William Mong and J. Porter Brown, citizens of Chambersburg, and in no way connected with the military service, have been taken to Richmond as prisoners by the rebels. They were to Hagerstown without hindrance, when it was occupied by the rebels, and some "constitutional citizen," as Gen. Jenkins would say, doubtless informed on them, and they were arrested in their rooms at the hotel and marched off. Rev. Charles Steck and William Kitzmiller were with them at the time; but Mr. Steck was luckily overlooked, or was believed to be a citizen of Hagerstown, and he was not taken. Mr. Kitzmiller was taken, but ran the gauntlet of a volley of rebel bullets at Failing Waters, and made his escape.

We learn from Mr. Kitzmiller, that during the stay of our citizens in Hagerstown--from Tuesday until Friday--but one ration each was issued to them by the rebels; and but for Miss McCameron, Mrs. Daniel Funk, and some other loyal ladies, they would have starved. During the march from Hagerstown until Mr. K. made his escape on the following Tuesday, but one ration was issued to each prison--making but two rations to each man during an entire week. They killed a steer on Sunday, and in that way got some meat, and a friendly woman supplied them with some cakes; but they all suffered much from hunger. All were in good health, notwithstanding the exposure and deprivation of food, when Mr. K left.