The Sun. — London, England, 1862-10-04 00:00:00

2111 3 BATTLE, OF SIIA.RPSBURG. The fo'ilowing ace°• unt of the above battle is given by the correspondent of the .1% 7 620 York Tribune : Battle-field of Sharpsbnrg, Wednesday Evening, Sept. 17, 1862. Fierce and desperate battle between 200,000 men has raged since daylight, yet night closes on an un certain. field. It is the greatest fight since Waterloo —all over the fiel , l contested with a obstinacy equal even to Waterloo. If not wholly a victory to-night, I believe it is tl - le prelude to a victory to-morrow. But what can he foretold of the future of a fight in which from five in the morning till seven at night the best troops of the continent have fought with out decisive result? I have no time for speculation —no time even to gather details of the battle; only time to state its broadest features —then mount and spur for New York. After the brilliant victory near Middletown General M'Clellan pushed forward his army rapidly and reached Keedysville with three corps on Monday night. That march has already been described. On the day following the two armies faced each other idly, until night. Artillery was busy at intervals; once in the morning, opening with spirit, and continuing for half an hour with vigour, till the rebel battery, as usual, was silenced. M'Clellan was on the hill where Benjamin's bat tery was stationed, and found himself suddenly nn der a rath er h e a v y fire: It was still uncertain whether the rebels were retreating or reinforcin g— their batt er i es wou ld rema i n i n position in either case, and as they had withdrawn nearly all their troops from view, there was only the doubtful indi cation of columns of dust to the rear. On the evening of Tuesday Hooker was ordered to cross the Antietum Creek with his corps, and, feeling the left of the enemy, be ready to attack next morning. During the day of apparent activity M'Clellan hnd been maturing his plan of battle, of which Hooker's movement was one development. The position on either side was peculiar. When Richardson advanced on Monday he found the ene my deployed and displayed in force on a crescent ehaped ridge, the outline of which followed more or less exactly the course of Antietum Creek. Their lines were then forming, and the revelation of force in front of the ground which they re ally intended to hold was probably meant to delay our attack until their arrangements to receive it were complete. Daring the day they kept their troops exposed, and did not move them, even to avoid the artillery fire, which must have been occasionally annoying. Next morning the lines and columns which had darkened cornfields and hill crests, had been with drawn. Broken and wooded ground behind the sheltering hills concealed the rebel masses. What from our front looked like only a narrow summit fringed with woods was a broad table-land of forest and ravine—cover for troops everywhere, nowhere easy access for an enemy. The smoothly-sloping surface in front and the sweeping crescent of slowly mingling lines was all a delusion. It was a rebel stronghold beyond. Under the base of these hills runs the deep stream called Antietum Creek, fordable only at dis tant points. Three bridges cross it, ene on the 'Hagerstown road, one on the Sharpsburg pike, one to the left in a deep recess of sleepy falling hills. Hooker passed the first to reach the ford by which he crossed, and it was held by Pleasanton with a reserve of cavalry during the battle. The second was close under the rebel centre, and no way im portant to yesterday's fight. At the third Burn side attacked and finally crossed. Between the first and third lay most of the battle lines. They stretched four miles from right to left. Unaided attack in front was impossible. M'Clel lan's forces lay behind low, disconnected ridges, in front of the rebel summits, all, or nearly all, un wooded. They gave some cover for artillery, and guns were therefore massed on the centre. The enemy had the Shepherdstown road and the Hagerstown and Williamsport road both open to him in rear for retreat. Along one or the other, if beaten, he must fly. This, among other reasons, determined perhaps the plan of battle which M'Clel lan finally resolved on. The plan was generally as follows :—Hooker was to cross on the right, establish himself on the ene my's left, if possible, flanking his position, and to open the fight. Sumner, Franklin, and Mansfield were to send their forces also to the right, co-ope rating with and sustaining Hooker's attack, while advancing also nearer the centre. The heavy work in the centre was left mostly to the batteries. Por ter massing his infantry supported in the hollows. Oa the left Burnside was to carry the bridge already referred to, advancing then by a road which enters the pike at Sharpsburg, turning at once the rebel flank and destroying his line of retreat. Porter and Sykes were held in reserve. It is obvious that the complete success of a plan contemplating widely divergent movements of separate corps must largely depend on accurate timing, that the attack should be simultaneous and not successive. Hooker moved on Tuesday afternoon at four o'clock, crossing the creek at a ford above the bridge and well to the right, without opposition. Fronting south-west his line advanced not quite on the rebel flank, but overlapping it and threatening it. Turning off from the road after passing the stream he sent forth cavalry skirmishers straight into the woods and over the fields beyond, Rebel pickets withdrew slowly before them, firing scat tering and harmless shots. Turning again to the left the cavalry went down on the rebel flank, coming suddenly close to a battery which met them with unexpected grape and canister. It being the motive of cavalry to retire before batteries, this com pany loyally followed the law of its being, and came swiftly back without pursuit. Artillery was sent to the front, infantry was rapidly deployed, and skirmishers went out in front on either flank. The corps moved forward com pactly, Hooker, as usual reconnoitring in person. They came et last to an open grass-sown field, en closed on two sides with woods, protected on the right by a mill, and entered through a corn-field in the rear. Skirmishers entering these woods were instantly met by rebel shots, but held their ground, I and as soon as supported, advanced, and cleared the timber. Beyond, on the left and in front, volleys of musketry opened heavily, and a battle seemed to have begun a little sooner than it was expected. Gen. - Rooker formed his lines with precision and Without hesitation. Ricketts' division went into th€ woods on the, left in force. Meade, with the Penn sylvania reserves, formed in the centre. Doubl4- day was sent out on the right, planting his batteries on the hill, and opening at once on a rebel battery that began to enfilade andthe the central line. It was already dark, r ebelposition could only be discovered by the t ashese their guns. They pushed on the forward otbheroldly flank on the right, made no losing ground , attempt to re gain their hold on the woods, The light flashed, and glimmered, and faded, and finally went out in the dark. th at tla close to a il yz rebels Hooker had found out what h e w anted to know. When the firing ceased the hostile lines inevitabl e each other, their pickets so near were captured during the night. It wa s nev that the fight should recommence at tabl e daylight. Neither side had suffered considerable loss ; it was a skirmish, not a battle. "We are through for t o _ night," remarked the general, "but to-morrow we fight the battle that will decide the fate of the Republic." Not long after the firing ceased it sprang up again on the left. General Hooker, who had taken up his head-quarters in a barn, which had been nearly the focus of the rebel artillery, was out at o ne. First came rapid and unusually frequent p i c ket shots, then several heavy volleys. The gene ral listened a moment and smiled grimly. "We have no troops there. The troops are shooting each Fair Oaks over again." So everybody other. It is Fa lay down aga in ; but all the night through there were frequent alarms. M'Clellan had been in formed of the night's work and of the certainties awaiting the dawn. Sumner was ordered to move his corps at once, and was ex pected. to be on the ground at daylight. From the extent of the rebel lines developed in the evening it was plain that they had gathered taw whole beh,ncl.the heights, and were waiting fur the shock. The battle began with the dawn. MoiLlng ~a~ found both armies just as they had slept—almost close enough to look into each other's eye , . The left of Meade'd reserves and the right of Eicketts' line became engaged at nearly the same ii oment— one with artillery, and the other with i , lantry. A battery was almost immediately push d forwards beyond the central woods, over a ploughed field, near the top of the slope where the eorn-field begun. On the open field, in the corn beyond, and in the woods which stepped forward into the broad fields like a promontory into the ocean, was the hardest and deadliest struggle of the day. For half an hour after the battle had grown to its full strength th e li ne o f fi re swa y e d neither way. Hooker's men were fully up to their work. They saw their general everywhere in front, never away from the fire, and all the troops believed in their commander, and fought with a will. Two-thirds of them were the same men who, under M'Dowell, had broken at Manassas. The half--hour passed, the rebels began to give way a little, only a little, but at the first indication of a receding fire, " Forward" was the word, and on went the line with a cheer and a rush. Back across the corn-field, leaving dead and wounded behind them, over the fence, and across the road, and then back again into the dark woods which closed around them, went the retreating rebels. Meade and his Pennsylvanians followed hard and fast—followed till they came within easy range of the woods, among which they saw their beaten enemy di sappearing —followed still, with another cheer, and flung themselves against the cover. But out of those gloomy woods came, suddenly and heavily, terrible volleys—volleys which smote and bent, and broke, in a momen`, that eager front, and hurled them swiftly back for half the dis tance they had went ; not swiftly, nor in panic, any further. Closing up their shattered lines, they came slowly away—a regiment where a brigade had been, hardly a brigade where a whole division had been victorious. They had met from the woods the first volleys of musketry from fresh troops—had met them and returned them till their line had yielded and gone down before the weight of fire, and till the ammunition was exhausted. "In ten minutes the fortunes of the day seemed to have changed. It was the rebels now who were advancing, pouring out of the woods in endless lines, sweeping through the corn-field from which their comrades had just fled. Hooker sent in his nearest brigade to meet them, but it could not do the work. He called for another. There was nothing close enough, unless he took it from his right. His right might be in danger if it was weakened, but his centre was already threatened with annihilation. Not hesitating one moment, he sent to Doubleday : "Give me your best brigade instantly." The best brigade came down the hill to the right on the run, went through the timber in front through a storm of shot and bursting shell and crashing limbs, over the open field beyond, and straight into the corn-field, passing as they went three brigades shattered by the rebel fire, and stream ing to the rear. They passed by Hooker, whose eyes lighted as he saw these veteran troops led by a soldier whom he knew he could trust. "I think they will hold it," he said. " General Hartsuff took his troops very stea dily, but, now that they were under fire, not hurriedly, up to the hill from which the corn-field begins to descend, and formed them on the crest. Not a man who was not in full view—not one who bent before the storm. Firing at first in vollus, they fired them at will with wonderful rapidity and effect. The whole line crowned the hill and stood out darkly against the sky, but lighted and shrouded over in flame and smoke. These were the 12th and 13th Massachusetts, old troops all of them. There for half an hour they held the ridge, un yielding in purpose, exhaustless in courage. There were gaps in the line, but it nowhere dwelt. Their general was wounded badly early in the fight, but they fought on. Their supports did not come— they determined to fight without them. They be gan to go down the hill and into the corn. They did not atop to think that their ammunition was nearly gone ; they were there to win that field, and they won it. The rebel line for the second time fled through the corn and into the woods. I cannot tell how few of Hartsuff's brigade were left when the work was done. There was no more gallant, deter mined, heroic fighting in ail this desperate day. General Hartsuff is very severely wounded, but I do not believe he counts his success too dearly pur chased. The crisis of the fight at this point had arrived ; Ricketts' division, vainly endeavouring to advance, and, exhausted by the effort, had fallen back. Part of Mansfield's corps was crdered in to their relief, but Mansfield's troops came back again, and their General was mortally wounded. The left, nevertheless, was too extended to be turned, and too strong to be broken. Ricketts sent word he could not advance, but could hold his ground. Doubleday had kept his guns at work on the right, and had finally silenced a rebel battery that for half an hour had poured in a galling en filading fire along Hooker's central line. " There were woods in front of Doubleday's hill which the rebels held, but so long as those guns pointed that way they did not care to attack. With his left then able to take care of itself, with his right impregnable with two brigades of Mansfield still fresh and coming rapidly up, and with his centre a second time victorious, General Hooker determined to advance. Orders were sent to Crawford and Gordon—the two Mansfield brigades —to move directly forward at once, the batteries in the centre were ordered on, the whole line was called on, and the general himself went forward. I To the right of the corn field and beyond it, was a point of woods. Once carried and firmly held it was the key of the position. Hooker determined to take it. He rode out in front of his furthest troops on a hill to examine the ground for a battery. At the top he dismounted and went forward on foot, completed his reconnaissance, returned, and re mounted. The musketry fire from the point of wood was all the while extremely hot. As he put his foot in the stirrup a fresh volley of rifle bullets came whizzing by. The tall, soldierly figure of the ge neral, the white horse which he rode, the elevated place where he was—all made him a most danger ously conspicuous mark. So he had been all day, riding often without a staff officer or an ord er ly near him—all sent off On urgent duty—visible every where all dnay, the, but field. they The rebel b u ll ets had followed h had not hit hi m, and he would i OO% not regard them. Remounting on thi s hi ll, he had not ridden five steps when he was s t ruck in the foot by a ball. Three men were shot down at t he same mo ment by his side. The air was alive with b u ll ets. He kept on hi i horse for a few moments, though the wound was severe till he had given an d excessively painf u l, and would not dismount his last order to a d va n ce. He was himself in the very front. Swaying unsteadily on his horse, "There is he turned in his seat t o l oo k a bout him. a regiment to the right. O r d er it forward. Craw ford and Gordon are c om i ng u p. Tell them to carry these works, and hold th em — an d it is our fight." It was found that the bullet had passed com pletely through his foot. The surgeon who exa mined it on the spot could give no opinion whether bo nes were b ro k en , b ut i t was afterwards ascer tained that, though grazed, they w er e not frac tured. (IP impossible it coursithe severity of the wou nd made for him to keep the field which he be tedit.alreiatd t as w° 9 a, so far as it belon ge d t o him to furious since ecktiQAck. The fight had been was broken ; b u t with hi _ large part of hi s comman d with Crawford's and Gorright still untouched, and a , thinking above all, with the advance brigade s just f the whole central ° up— line, w hien the men had heard ti ered o with cheers —with a re g i men t a l rea d y on th or e ed g ; of _ the woods 11 id he wanted, he might we ll l eave the the battle w as won — t h at hi s battle Was vo n, for I am writing, of course, only about th attack on the rebel left. I see no reason why I should disguise my admi ration of Gen. Hooker's bravery and soldierly abi. lity. Remaining nearly all the morning on the right, I could not help seeing the sagacity and promptness of his movements, how completely his Buoy:., were kept is hand, how devotedly they trusted to him, how keen was his insight into the battle, how every opportunity was seized and every reverse was checked and turned into another suc cess. I say this the more unreservedly because I have no personal relation with him, never saw him till the day before the fight, and do not like his politics or opinions in general. But what are politics in such a battle ? Sumner arrived just as Hooker was leaving, and assumed command. Crawford and Gordon had gone into the woods, and were holding them stoutly against heavy odds. As I rode over toward the left I met Sumner at the head of his column ad vancing rapidly through the timber, opposite where Crawford was fighting. The veteran general was riding alone in the forest far ahead of his leading brigade, his hat off, his grey hair, and beard and moustache, strangely contrasted with the fire in his eyes, and his martial air, as he hurried on to where the bullets were thickest. Sedgwick's division was in advance, moving for ward to support Crawford and Gordon. Rebel reinforcements were approaching also, and the struggle for the roads was again to be renewed. Sumner sent forward two divisions. Richardson and French on the left. Sedgwick moving in column of division through the roads in rear, de ployed and advanced in line over the corn field. There was a bread interval between him and the nearest division, and he saw that if the rebel line were complete, his own division was in immediate danger of being flanked. But his orders were to advance, and those are the orders which a soldier —and Sedgwick is every inch a soldier—loves to hear. To extend his own front as far as possible he ordered the 34th New York to move by the left flank. The manceuvre was attempted under a fire of great intensity, and the regiment broke. At the same moment the enemy, perceiving their advan tage, came round on that flank. Crawford was ob liged to give on the right, and his troops pouring in confusion through the ranks of Sedgwick's ad vance brigade, threw it into disorder and back on the second and third lines. The enemy advanced, their fire increasing. General Sedgwick was three times wounded, in the shoulder, leg, and wrist, but he persisted in remaining on the field so long as there was a chance of saving it. His adjutant general, Major Sect,- wick, bravely rallying and trying to reform the troops, was shot through the body, the bullet lodg ing in the spine, and fell from his horse. Severe as the wound is, it is probably not mortal. Lieut. Howe, of General Sedgwick's staff; endeavoured to rally the 34th New York. They were badly cut up, and would not stand. Half their officers were killed or wounded, their colours shot to pieces, the colour-sergeant killed, every one of the colour guard wounded. Only 32 were afterwards got together. The 15th Massachusetts went into action with 17 officers and nearly 600 men. Nine officers were killed or wounded, and some of the latter are pri soners. Capt. Simons, Capt. Samples of the Sharp shooters, Lieut. Darley, and Lieut. Berry are killed. Capt. Bartlett and Capt. Jocelyn, Lieut. Spurr, Lieut. Gale, and Lieut. Bradley are wounded; 134 men were the only remains that could be collected of this splendid regiment. Gen. Dan was wounded. Gen. Howard, who took command of the division after Gen. Sedgwick was disabled, exerted himself to restore order, but it could not be done there, Gen. Sumner ordered the line to be reformed under fire. The test was too severe for volunteer troops under such a fire. Sum ner himself attempted to arrest the disorder, but to little purpose. Lieut.-Col. Revere and Captain Audenried, of his staff, were wounded severely, but not dangerously. It was impossible to hold the position. Gen. Sumner withdrew the division to the rear, and once more the corn field was aban doned to the enemy. French sent word he could hold his ground. Richardson, while gallantly leading a regiment under a heavy fire, was severely wounded in the shoulder. Gen. Meagher was wounded at the head of his brigade. The loss in general officers was be coming frightful. At 1 o'clock affairs on the right had a gloomy look. Hooker's troops were greatly exhausted and their general away from the field. Mansfield's were no better. Sumner's command had lost heavily, but two of his divisions were comparatively fresh. Artillery was yet playing vigorously is front,though the ammunition of many of the batteries was en tirely exhausted, and they had been compelled to retire. Doubleday held the right inflexibly. Sumner's headquarters were now in the narrow field where the right, before Hooker, had begun to fight. All that had been gained in front had been lost. The enemy's battalion, which, if advanced and served vigorously, might have made sad work with the closely massed troops, were fortunately either par tially disabled or short of ammunition, Sumner was confident that he could hold his own; but another advance was out of the question. The enemy, on the other hand, seemed to be too much exhausted to attack. At this crisis Franklin came up with fresh troops, and, commanding one division of the corps, formed on the left. Slocum was sent forward along the slopes lying under the first ranges of the division of rebel hills, while Smith was ordered to retake the corn-fields and woods which all day had been so hotly contested. It was done in the handsomest style. His Maine and Vermont regiment and the rest went forward on the run, and, cheering as they went, swept like an avalanche through the corn fields, fell upon the woods, cleared them in ten minutes, and held them. They were not again retaken. The field and its ghastly harvest which the reaper had gathered in those fatal hours remained finally with us. Four times it had been lost and won. The dead are strewn so thickly that as you ride over it you cannot guide your horse's steps too carefully. Pale and bloody faces ara everywhere upturned. They are sad and terrible, but there is nothing which makes one's heart beat so quickly as the imploring look of sorely wounded men, who beckon wearily for help which you cannot stay to give. General Smith's attack was so sudden that his success was accomplished with no great loss. He had gained a point, however, which compelled him to expect every moment an attack, and to hold 1 which, if the enemy again brought up reserves, would take his best energies and best troops. But the long strife, the heavy losses, incessant fighting over the same ground, repeatedly lost and won inch by inch, and, more than all, the fear of Burn side on the left and Porter in front, held the enemy in check. For two or three hours there was a lull e e o even in th e cannona d e on the right, which hitherto had been i ncessant. M'Clellan hand been over en the field a f ter Sumner's repulse, but had speedily returned ot advancetohishea v d i q th hisuarters. own corps.Sull Meantime, where was again sent word that he was abl e t o h o ld his position, but he doing. until two o'clock, was Burnside, and what was On the right, where I spent the day fortunes of the field. in the centre, but nothing from , little was known of the general great had re a h t e t a o r heard P distinguish orte Porter's left. The distance was t e oe Burnside on the guns the sound of his artillery from porter's left. There was no immediate prospect of more fighting on the right, and I left the field, which all day long had seen the most obstinate contest of the war, and rode over to M'Clellan 's head •quatters. The different battle- , fields were shut out from each oth er ' s view, but all ' partially visible from the central hill which General M'Clellan had occupied during the day, B ut I was more than ever impressed on returning w i th the completely deceitful appearance of the ground the rebels had chosen when viewed from the front. Hooker's and Sumner's struggle had been carried on over an uneven and wooded surface, their own line of battle extending in a semicircle not less than a mile and a half. Perhaps a better notion of their position can be got by considering their right, centre, and left as forming three sides of a square. So long, therefore, as either wi.ng was driven back, the centre became exposed to a very dangerous enfi itring fire, and the further the centre was advanced, e 19ptae o ff it Was, unless the lines on its side and rear were ' firmly hel,l. This formation resulted on from ' the efforts of the enemy to turn both j - ,s, THE SUN, LONDON, SATURDAY VE NI Nl, OCTOBER 4, 1862, flanks. Hooker, at the very outset, threw his column so far into the centre of the rebel lines, that they were compelled to threaten him on the flank to secure their own centre. Nothing of all this was perceptible from the hills in front. Some directions of the rebel lines had been disclosed by the smoke of their guns, but the whole interior formation of the country beyond the hills was completely concealed. When M'Clellan arranged his order of battle it must have been upon information, or have been left to his corps and divi sion commanders to discover for themselves. Up to three o'clock Burnside had made little pro gress. His attack on the bridge had been success ful, but the delay had been so great that to the observer it appeared as if M'Clellan's plans must have been seriously disarranged. It is impossible not to suppose that the attacks on right and left were meant in a measure to correspond, for other wise the enemy had only to repel Hooker on the one hand, then transfer hie troops and push them against Burnside. Here was the difference between Smith and Burn side. The former did his work at once, and lost all his men at once—that is, all whom he lost at all; Burnside seems to have attacked cautiously, in order to save his men, and sending successively in. sufficient forces against a position of strength, dis tributed his loss over a greater period of time, but yet lost none the less in the end. Finally, at four o'clock, M'Clellan sent simulta neous orders to Burnside and Franklin—to the for mer to advance and carry the batteries in his front at all hazards and any cost ; to the latter to carry the woods next in front of him to the left, which the rebels still held. The order to Franklin, how ever, was practically countermanded, in consequence of a message from Gen. Sumner, that if Franklin went on and was repulsed, his own corps was not yet sufficiently reorganised to be depended on as a reserve. Franklin, thereupon, was directed to run no risk of losing his present position, and, instead of send ing his infantry into the woods, contented himself with advancing his batteries over the breadth of the fields in front, supporting them with heavy columns of infantry, and attacking with energy the rebel batteries immediately opposed to him. His movement was a success, so far as it went, the batteries maintaining their new ground, and sen sibly affecting the steadiness of the rebel fire. That being once accomplished, and all hazard of the right being again forced back having been dispelled, the movement of Burnside became at once the turning point of success, and the fate of the day depended on him. How extraordinary the situation was may be judged from a moment's consideration of the facts. It is understood that from the outset Burn side's attack was expected to be decisive, as it cer tainly must have been if things went well else where, and if he succeeded in establishing himself on the Sharpsburg road in the rebel rear. Generals Hooker, and Sumner, and Franklin, and Mansfield were all sent to the right three miles away, while Porter seems to have done double duty with his single corps in front, both supporting the batteries and holding himself in reserve. With all this immense force on the right but 16,000 were given to Burnside for the decisive movement of the day. Still more unfortunate in its results was the total failure of these separate attacks on the right and left to sustain, or in any manner co-operate with each other. Burnside hesitated for hours in front of the bridge, which should have been carried at once by a coup de main. Meantime Hooker had been fight ing for four hours with various fortune, but final success. Sumner had come up too late to join in the decisive attack which his earlier arrival would probably have counted into a complete success; and Franklin reached the scene only when Sumner had been repulsed. Probably before his arrival the re bels had transferred a considerable number of troops to their right to meet the attack of Burnside, the direction of which was then suspected or developed. Attacking first with one regiment, then with two, and delaying both for artillery, Burnside was not over the bridge before 2 o'clock—perhaps not till 3. He advanced slowly up the slopes in front, his bat teries in rear covering, to some extent, the move ment of the infantry. A desperate fight was going on in a deep ravine on his right, the rebel batteries were in full play, and apparently very annoying and destructive, while heavy columns of rebel troops were plainly visible, advancing as if careless of con cealment, along the road and over the hills in the direction of Burnside's forces. It was at this point of time that M'Clellan sent him the order to ad vance and carry the batteries in his front at all hazards. Burnside obeyed it most gallantly. Getting his troops well in hand and sending a portion of his artillery to the front, he advanced them, with ra pidity and the most determined vigour, straight up the hill in front, on the top of which the rebels had maintained their most dangerous battery. The movement was in plain view of M'Clellan's posi tion, and as Franklin on the other side sent his bat teries into the field about the same time, the battle seemed to open in all directions with greater acti vity.than ever. The fight in the ravine was in full progress, the batteries which Porter supported were firing away with new vigour, Franklin was blazing away on the right and hill-top ridge and woods along the whole line were crested and veiled with white clouds of smoke. All day had been cle ar an d b r i ght s i nce the early cloudy morning, and now thi s w h ole magnificent, unequalled scene shone with the splen dour of an afternoon September sun. Four miles of battle, its glory all visible, its horrors all hidden, the fate of the republic hanging on the hour —could any one be insensible of its grandeur I There are two hills cn the left of the road, the furthest and lowest. The rebels have batteries on both. Burnside is ordered to carry the nearest to him, which is the furthest from the road. His guns opening first from this new position in front more entirely controlled and silenced the enemy's artil lery. The infantry came on a t once, mov i ng rapidly and steadily up long, (lark lanes, and broad, dark recesses, being plainly visible without a glass as they moved over the green hillside. The next moment the road in which the rebel battery was planted was canopied with c l ou d s of dust swiftly descending into the valley. Underneath was a tumult of waggons, guns, horses, - and men flying at speed down the road. Blue flashes of smoke burst now and then among them, a horse or a man or half a dozen went down, and then the whirlwind swept on. The hill was carried, but could it be held ? The rebel columns, before seen moving to the left, increased their pace. The guns on the hill above send an angry tempest of shell down among Burn side's guns and men. He had formed his columns appahn groundear glan a e b s o o u t t . fields y b w o der-r he re ing except in rear. In another moment a rebel battle t r h e e n r t o l y a d i — n t h h i g et t w he o m fie e line appears on the brow of the ridge above them, moves swiftly down in the most perfect order, and though met by incessant discharges of musketry, of which we plainly see the flashes, does not fire a gun. White spaces show where men are falling, but they close up instantly, and still the line ad vances. The brigades of Burnside are in heavy column ; they will not give way before a bayonet charge in line. The rebels think twice before they dash into these hostile masses. There is a halt, the rebel left gives way and scatters over the field, the rest stand fast and fire. More infantry comes up; Burnside is outnumbered, flanked, compelled to yield the hill he took so bravely. His position is no longer one of attack ; he defends himself with untaltering firmness, but he sends to M'Clellan for help. M'Clellan's glass for the last half-hour h as se ld om b een t ur ned away from the left. He sees c l ear ly enoug h that Burn side is press e d— nee d s no messenger to tell him that. His face grows da r k er w ith anx i ous th oug ht. Look ing down into th e va ll ey w h ere 15 , 000 t roo ps are lying he turns a h a lf- ques ti on i ng l oo k on Fit z -John Porter, who stands by his s ide, gra ve ly scanning the field. They are Porte r 's troops b e l o w, are fresh and only impatient to share i n this fight. But Por ter slowly the sam e t h ought is passing through the minds of both general s . shakes his head and one may believe that " They are the only heroes of the army; they c annot be spared. " M'Clellan remounts his horse, and, with Porter and a dozen °Moors of his s t a ff, r id es away to the left, in Burnside's direction. Sykes meets them on the road—a good soldier, whose opinion is worth taking. The three generals talk briefly together. It is easy to see that the moment has come when every thing may turn on one order given or withheld, when the history of the battle is only to be written in thoughts, and purposes, and words of the general. Burnside's messenger rode up. His message is—" I want troops and guns. If you do not send them, I cannot hold my position for half an hour." M'Clel lan's only answer for a moment is a glance at the western sky. Then he turns and speaks very slowly —" Tell General Burnside that this is the battle of the war. He must hold his ground till dark at any cost. I will send him Miller's battery. I can do nothing more. I have no infantry." Then, as the messenger was riding away he called him back " Tell him if he cannot hold his ground, then the bridge, to the last man !—always the bridge !—if the bridge is lost, all is lost." The sun is already down ; not half-an-hour of day light is left. Till Burnside's message came it had seemed plain to everyone that the battle could not be finished to-day. None suspected how near was the peril of defeat, of sudden attack on exhausted forces—how vital to the safety of the army and the nation was those fifteen thousand waiting troops of Fitz-John Porter in the hollow. But the rebels halted instead of pushing on, their vindictive cannonade died away as the light faded. Before it was quite dark the battle was over. Only a solitary gun of Burnside's thundered against the enemy, and presently this also ceased, and the field was still. The peril came very near, but it has passed, and, in spite of the peril, at the close of the day was partly a success—not a victory, but an advantage had been gained. Hooker, Sumner, and Franklin held all the ground they had gained, and Burnside still held the bridge and his position beyond. Every thing was favourable for a renewal of the fight in the morning. If the plan of the battle is sound, there is every reason why M'Clellan should win it. He may choose to postpone the battle to await his reinforcements. The rebels may choose to retire while it is possible. Fatigue on both sides might delay the deciding battle, yet, if the enemy means to fight at all, he cannot afford to delay. His reinforcements may be coming, but where are his supplies ? His losses are enormous. His troops have been massed in woods and hollows, where artillery has had its most terrific effect. Ours have been deployed and scattered. From infantry fire there is less difference. It is hard to estimate losses on a field of such extent, but I think ours cannot be less than 6,000 killed and wounded—it may be much greater. Prisoners have been taken from the enemy—l hear' of a regiment captured entire, but I doubt it. All the prisoners whom I saw agree in saying that the whole army is there. Hill and Longstreet are either killed or prisoners. POLICE INTELLIGENCE.-- Oct. 3. MANSION-HOUSE. A well-dressed man, named William Gibson, and described as a surgeon, residing at 18, Edward-street, Hampstead-road, was placed at the bar, on remand, in custody of de tective officer Foulger, before the Lord Mayor, to undergo a further examination upon a charge of forging and uttering a cheque for £750, purporting to be signed by H. W. Seymour, with intent to de fraud the London and County Bank. Mr. Mullens, solicitor to the Bankers' Protection Association, prosecuted; and Mr. Lewis, jun., at tended on behalf of the prisoner. Upon the last examination the principal evidence adduced was that of a young man named William Richards, who stated that he was out of employment, and met the prisoner at the Registry-office in Ox ford-street. He told him he wanted a young man to write letters and occasionally to collect rents. He showed the prisoner his testimonials, and after look ing at them he returned them, and said his character seemed very good; but he would not give him a de cided answer then, as he wanted to see another young man. He said he had always done his busi ness himself up to that time, but he was getting rather deaf, and as it was the first young man he was about to engage he thought it would be better to see the other ; he would let him know by the Tuesday morning, and if he did not receive a letter from him by that time, he might conclude he had engaged the other. n Monday morning the wit ness received a letter signed W. Eymon, requesting him to meet him at the London-bridge station at 11 o'clock that morning, when they would arrange about salary, &c. He went to the railway station and met the prisoner, who said he had not many minutes to stop, and they went into the waiting room, and after arranging as to salary, &c., the pri soner asked him if he knew Lombard-street, and he said he did ; upon which the prisoner asked him if he knew the London and County Bank. He said he did not, but could soon find it out. The prisoner then said, " Never mind, perhaps I shall have time to go myself," and then appeared to think for a moment, and said to the witness, " Well, you may as well go." He then gave him a cheque for £750 55., on the London and County Bank, payable to W. Eymon, and signed " p.p. D. C. Seymour, H. W. Seymour," and told him to go and get it cashed, and to take the money to 20, Russell-square, and ask for Mr. Eymon. He took the cheque to the bank, and in consequence of what was said to him he went to Mr. Seymour. He afterwards went to Russell square, but did not see the prisoner there. On the Tuesday morning he received a letter, signed " W. Eymon," and dated from Carine House, Uxbridge, asking him why he had not taken the money, and telling him to write to the address and give all the particulars. In consequence of that letter the witness communicated with the police, and went to Uxbridge in company with the officer Foulger, and they met the prisoner walking with a female. Mr. John Hurst, chief cashier to Messrs. Sey mour and Co,, stockbrokers., Throgmorton-street, said they kept an account at the London and County Bank. There_ was a gentleman named H. W. Seymour, who signed cheques far Mr. Seymour, but the cheque produced was not signed by him. The prisoner, upon that evidence, was remanded until the present occasion. The witness Richards was again called, and pro duced a letter which he said was the same he had addressed to the prisoner at Carine House, Uxbridge, and which had been returned to him on the previ ous day, marked "Not known." Mr. Hurst was again called, and said—On the 18th August last the prisoner called at Messrs_ Sey mour's office, and said he had been r ecommended by , Messrs. Coleman and Armstrong, their correspon dents at Dublin ; that his name was Goff, and he lived at 39, Upper Dorset-street, Dublin, but was then staying at 52, Warwick-street, Fitzroy-square. The prisoner said he wanted some shares in the Bank of Australia, and he went out and bought them, and made the prisoner out a contract to the amount of £lO5 155., telling him that there was no occasion for him to pay the money until the 29th August, which was settling day, but he preferred paying the money, and that the transfer should be sent to him at his address in Dublin. On the 26th the prisoner called again at the office, and said he wanted his money back, and the shares were sold and a cheque for the full amount was given him. Detective officer Foulge — r said he went to Uxbridge with the witness Richards. They took a chaise, and on the road from Uxbridge to Iver they overtoo k the prisoner walking with a female, who he after wards said was his wife. He got out of the chaise and asked him if his name was Eymon, and he said he did not understand him. He asked Richards if he was sure the prisoner was the man, and he said be was. The prisoner said . his name w as not E ymon, and asked if the witness Richards meant to say that he had seen him before, and he said he had. Ho then took the prisoner in the chaise, and his wife went with them, accompanied by th e w it ness Richards. Several times while on the road the pri soner wanted Richards to be sen t outs i de, an d f rom the manner in which he fumbled about his pockets he was induced to take him to a publichouse on the roadside, .where be search e d hi m, and on putt i ng hi s hand into his righthand coat pocket he foun d a sma ll pocket pistol loaded with ball and capped. The pri soner threw a piece of paper into the fireplace, which he picked up, and found it had the address, 18, Edward - street , H ampstea d- roa d. wr itten on it, which the prisoner afterwards acknowledged was his address. H e as k e d t h e pr i soner w hat his name was, and he said it was no use d en ying Gibson, H e b roug h t t h e pr i soner t o London, an it, it was d searched his house at 18, Edward-street, and there found two pass-books, £55 in gold, four £. 5 notes, No. 30,216 to 19 , a go ld watc h and chain, and a quantity of papers, and some letters addressed to Mr. Goff. On searching the pri soner at the station he found on hi m £24 10 i s. in gold , 323. in silver, two French co i ns , a blank c heque on the London and County Bank, and a 1 c heque for 16 on the Southwark branch a the London . and County Bank. packet with a card attached Ho also found a small said . was a scent to it, which the prisonerpacket belonging to his wife, and which he was anxious should b e g i ven to, h e r, but on opening it he found it to contain a £5O Bank of England note, No. 37,462, J u no 0; 1860. Ho also found two pieces of paper in his pocket, one with the name tilld ad dress of the witness Richards on it, and one with the address of a Dr. Millett. James Rumens, a servant in the employ of Miss Mills, 20, Russell-square, said he knew nothing of the prisoner, and he did not live at 20, Russell-square. Wm. Vinane, a police-constable at Uxbridge, said he knew the place well, and there was no such place as Carine House. George Eden, the postmaster at Uxbridge, said the letter addressed to Mr. Eymon, Carine House, Uxbridge, went to his office, and was called for by a female, who he had since learned was the pri soner's wife, but he would not give it it: her. Mr. Mullens asked for a further remand, Et's wit ness who could prove that the cheque for £2OO way out of a book which was issued to the prisoner when he kept an account at the London and County Bank was away, and he should likewise have ano ther charge against him, for forging and uttering a cheque on Messrs. Coutts. The prisoner was remanded. Mr. Lewis said the prisoner wished it to be un derstood that he did not intend to do any harm to the officer with the pistol which was found in his pocket. George Pearson, who was originally placed at the bar charged with uttering two forged £lO Bank of England notes, with intent to defraud the London and County Bank, was brought up on remand to undergo a further examination upon two other charges, one for uttering a forged acceptance for £B5 155., and the other for uttering a forged cheque for £2OO, with intent to defraud Messrs. Willis and Co., bankers. The prisoner was committed for trial upon the last occasion for uttering the forged notes, and was remanded for the completion of the two latter charges. Mr. Mullens again attended to prosecute on be half of the Bankers' Protection Association; and Mr. Taylor, barrister, appeared to watch the case on behalf of the prisoner. As regarded the acceptance for £B5, it appeared that on the 3d of June, last the prisoner gave the bill in question to a ticket-porter in the Temple, named Muspratt, telling him to go to Messrs. Willis, the bankers, and get it cashed, and he would wait for him in the Temple. He took the bill to Mcssrs.Willis's, and got the money for it. The bill was paid in bank notes, one for £5O, one for £2O, one for £lO, and one for £5, and notes for these sums were produced by Mr Bailey, from the Ac countant's-office at the Bank, and were identified by Mr. Woodcock, cashier at Messrs. Willis and Co.'s, as the same which were given in payment for the bill. The witness likewise stated that the prisoner was formerly a clerk in Messrs. Willis's bank, and he was acquainted with his handwriting, and be lieved an endorsement, "Findlater and Co., Strand," which was at the back of the notes, to be in the pri soner's handwriting. With regard to the cheque for £2OO, it appeared that on the 9th Sept. the prisoner gave a letter, ad dressed to Mr. Woodcock, at Messrs. Willis's bank, to a person named Morgan, a cutler in Post-office court, Lombard-street, and asked him to take it to Mr. Woodcock, which he did. The letter, which contained a cheque for £2OO on the London and Westminster Bank, purporting to be signed by Messrs. Abrahams and Walsh, was signed by the prisoner, and asked Mr. Woodcock to cash the enclosed cheque, which was drawn by a house and estate agent in Great Portland-street, who had sold some property for his sister, and had crossed the cheque, and that if he could do it he would wait for him at the Windmill, Nicholas-lane. The cheque, however, was returned marked "No account;" and Mr. Israel Abrahams, of the firm of Abrahams and Walsh, estate agents, Great Portland-street, said he kept no account at the London and Westminster Bank, and the signature to the cheque for £2OO did not resemble their signature to cheques, but it was in imitation of the lithographic signature to their circulars. The prisoner was committed for trial on both charges. GUlLDHALL.—Frederick Godwin and Joseph Burgoyne were charged before Alderman Phillips with the following offence : Samuel Russell, a packer in the employ of Messrs. Baker, Tucker, and Co., 30 and 31, Gresham-street, silk manufacturers, said on the 23d of August last he packed a bale of silk handkerchiefs, which was directed to Messrs J. and N. Philips and Co., of Manchester, and took them to Mr. Fardell's book ing office in Gresham-street, to be forwarded. The prisoner Godwin was a clerk in Mr. Fardell's em ploy, and on receiving a communication from Messrs. Philips respecting the non-arrival of the bale of goods, witnessed mentioned the matter to Godwin, who said they had been taken away from Mr. Fardell's premises, and that he would write and inquire about them. Witness saw some one connected with the Great Northern Railway, and then communicated a second time with Godwin, who said it was all right, the goods had gone. He afterwards received a message from Godwin, who, on seeing him, asked him if he saw him (God win) when he delivered the goods, and on receiving a reply in he negative, he said it was all right, that was all he wanted to know.: Sergeant Green, of the City detective force, said he went to the house of the prisoner Burgoyne, and said he came to make inquiries about some hand kerchiefs which had been stolen. Burgoyne, on being questioned, said he had pledged one or two pieces of silk, and had sold the tickets - but on being taken into custody for receiving stolen pro perty, he said he did not see why he should get into trouble for other people, and he would therefore speak the truth. He then said that a short time previously the prisoner Godwin brought a bale of silk handkerchiefs to his house, and said the goods had been signed for by the railway carman and left behind. The bale was directed to Mr. Godwin, Ramsgate, whither he said he was going, and in a few days he took the goods away again. Witness then went to Mr. Fardell's, and told Godwin all that Burgoyne had said. Godwin said it was all false, but witness took him into custody. Godwin and Burgoyne were brothers-in-law. Mr. Philip Richer, warehouseman to Messrs. Baker, Tucker, and Co., said he selected the goods of which the bale was composed. They consisted of 1,36 pieces of silk handkerchiefs, value £l5l 17s. 6d, The pieces pledged by Burgoyne were of the same desert iation. Geo. Nuth, euployed at the Great Northern Rail way, said he checked the carman's load of parcels with the way bill, aid noticed the deficiency of the bale of silk addressed to Messrs. Philips, of Man chester. Mrs. Russell said Burgoyne lodged in her house. She remembered Godwin coming . in a cab early one morning with a bale of goods. GoaN-Fin called on the two following days and took away the goods in bags. Lewis Nathan, a dealer in unredeemed pledges, said Burgoyne called on him, and offered to put money in his way by the sale of some silk handker chiefs, which he said were bankrupt's stock. Wit ness declined to do any business with such goods, unless he could have bills and receipts, and was as sured they were what he called straightforward goods. On the same evening Godwin called and offered him similar goods, and showed him samples of them. He declined to buy them. Inspector Williams, of the Great Northern Rail way Company, said since the prisoners had been in custody Godwin sent for him and made a confes sion, to the effect that he found the bale of goods in the office, and that it had been signed for by the Great Northern Railway carman. He cut the can vas with his knife, and the bale having been pressed in packing the handkerchiefs burst out. He then packed them in three bundles, and put them into one package, and took them to Burgoyne's house, where he left them with him to dispose of,but when be called again he found some of them gone and Burgoyne drunk, so he took them away and sold 121 pieces to a man in Petticoat-lane, t o wham he was referred by Burgoyne, for £2l. If there were 136 pieces Burgoyne must have taken away the other 15 pieces. He also said that he gave Burgoyne £3los. for assisting him. He said Mr. Nathan bought the goods and sent two men for them. The prisoners were committed for trial. MARYLEBONE.—A FOUL-MOUTHED " GEN TLEMAN" SENT TO HARD LABOUR FOR A MONTH. —William Snowden, described as a gentleman, re siding at Willesden, appeared on a summons charg ing him with assaulting, without any provocation, a young man named Thomas Bolton. Mr. Herring, solicitor, of Stafford-street, ap peared for c omplainant, and whilst he was opening his case to his worship (Mr. Mansfield), he was continually interrupted by volleys of filthy expres sions from defendant towards complainant, quite unfit to be repeated in print. The learned gentle man said he would not continue, but at once call complainant, who, on stepping into the box, was assailed by defendant with a very filthy expres sion. From his evidence, as well as be was able to give it, in the midst of a shower of blackguardism, it appeared that on Friday night last he was lean ing over the gate of the house where he lodged at Willesden, when defendant came behind and struck him a severe blow on the head. Defendant—You liar; you are — Mr. Mansfield—Silence, sir. Defendant (striking his chest)—Give me my sen tence. He (pointing to Bolton) is a-- Mr. Mansfield (who evidently, like every one else in court, was disgusted at the "gentleman's" lan guage)—Stop, you filthy fellow—l commit you for one month with hard labour. For a minute or two he did not seem to under stand the sentence, and he was still more surprised when informed hard labour was attached to it. lAter in the day Mr. Vaughan, solicito r, lied applied in mitigation of punishment, but 'without 831 ti his worship was inflexible. CLERKENWELL.—DARING GAROTTE ROB" BERY.—A well-known thief, who now gays ' the Wm. Bonner, was placed at the bar before Mr. D'Eyncourt, charged with garotting an eldi 7IY f emale of the name of Elizabeth Miller, and steali n g her lurse in Edmond-street, King's-cross. Wm, Ransley, one of the detectives employed at the Great IN,l` rthern Railway, deposed that he saw' the female passi.7g . up Edmond-street, and as there was a group of th:eveli standing at the corner he turned round to see wkether they did anything to her or not. He had hordly turned round when he saw them all surround her, and. he distinctly s r ;w the prisoner seize her by the neck and force her bask against the 'wall. He at once ran to her assistance, but before he couh.l up the thieves made their escape. He saw the pri , lomer, in addition to pinching the poor woman's ', lift up her dress. When he got to her he found ,that the woman'Al , purse had been stolen. and Porter 422 Police-constable Connor, 211 S , S, said that they took the prisoner into custodY, and when they told him the charge he said lie was not the man who did it, but he knew who did, and he threw the purse over a wail. That morning they made a search in the place men tioned by the prisoner, and found the purse minus its contents. At the station he told Porter that it was no use denying it; that he was guilvv. The prisoner, in his defence, first said tgalt he was not guilty, bui afterwards said he was guilty, and hoped the magistrate would settle the matter at once. The police stated that the prisoner had &len a thief from his youth. He had been several times convicted, and was the :error of the neighbourhood. The prisoner said that every time he had been put away it had been dose by the police when he was innocent. Mr. D'Eyncourt fully eon, , mitted the prisoner to the Middlesex Sessions for tri:ii• --- THAMES.—ATTEMPTED MUADER BY AN OFFI CER IN THE ARMY.—Lieut. Wm. in`ltae, aged 21, of the 46th Foot, was brought up on remand before Mr. Woolrych, charged with attempting to murder George Pavey, cook and steward of the ship North umberland, at sea, on the 19th ult. Mr. C. Young, solicitor, conducted thtl prosecu tion ; Mr. Brewiu, solicitor, defended the prisoner, at the request of his numerous friends and cjminec tions, who are of the highest respectability, and some of whom came from Scotland to tender their advice and assistance. Mr. Young called the following additional wit nesses : Capt. Alex. Small, master of the ship Northum berland, from Madras, and now lying in the St. Katharine dock, said—On 19th September last my attention was called to the galley or cook-house on deck by a noise forward, in consequence of which I went upon deck, and saw the prisoner with my steward under him, and blood flowing from the steward's forehead. I called upon the crew to secure the prisoner, and they did so, while I looked after the steward. Directly afterwards a knife, which had been taken from my own cabin table, was found concealed upon the prisoner, and for the safety of all on board he was put in irons. On the same day, after breakfast, and before the prisoner attempted to kill the steward, the latter said he could not get on with his work, as Lieut. M'Rae was annoying him, following him about the decks, and threatening to make away with.himself. I spoke to the prisoner and said he had no right tobe annoying the steward while he was doing his duty. The prisoner said he wished to have a settlement with the steward. I told him if there was anything between them they must settle it another time. The prisoner said if he had not a settlement with the steward he would run a knife through his own body. I have heard the prisoner say he was sick, and had been poisoned. I heard him tell the steward that he was drugged 10 years ago. Mr. Young—Did you see any thing in the pri soner's conduct that indicated insanity ? Captain Small—No, sir. I have found knives in his possession. I ordered him to give them all up. I locked him up until I found I had all his weapons. Two weeks before he knocked down the steward with the mall. I thought he was conniving with the crew for the purposes of mischief. Mr. Young said the prosecuter had come uilawares upon the prisoner in his cabin and found him com mitting a most improper act, and that furnished the motive for the prisoner making the attempt on the steward's life. Mr. Woolrych—That has already been given in evidence by Pavey. James 'Spencer, ordinary seaman, said—On the morning of the 19th nit, I saw Lieut. M'Rae lift the mall, and, with both hands, strike the steward a swinging blow with it on the head. The steward defended his head with his arm, but he was severely wounded, and bled most fearfully. His hand was bruised. Both fell on a spar, and the steward was undermost. It appeared to me the prisoner meant to kill the steward. Cross-examined by Mr. Brewen—l never noticed anything the matter with the prisoner, or anything curious in his conduct, except that he used to come upon deck at 11 o'clock at night. Mr. Brewin and the prisoner's brother-in-law assured the magistrate that Lieut. M'Rae had been labouring under morbid delusions, and that his con.- duct in India was most extraordinary. The prisoner was sent home invalided after two years' service in India. Mr. Woolrych said he could not try the question of the prisoner's sanity or insanity. An application was then made to the magistrate that some bills of exchange, one for a million ster ling and another for £5OO, made out by the prisoner on board the Northumberland, should be given up to Mr. Brewen. Mr. Young—They are made out in favour of the steward, they are not stamped, they are not worth a farthing; they were made out by the prisoner to cajole the steward. The prisoner was carrying out his motive. The prosecutor said that when the prisoner made out the sham bills of exchange he said, "There is a present for you, I don't want to be exposed." the eok stewardthe prwso where " Rowcroft, a police-constable of the Thames divi sion, No. 43, said that when into custody, he said Istruhcke I wanted, but I did not intend to kill him." He asked the prisoner how he came to commit such an act, to which he replied " Because he attempted to poison me." The prisoner, on being called upon for his de fence, said " I would rather not say anything." Mr. Woolrych committed the prisoner for trial at the next Old Bailey Sessions, for attempting to murder Pavey. FOREIGN MAIL PACKET LIST. MAILS DUE. Australia and Mauritius, via Southampton ..Oct. 19. via Marseilles .. Oct. 13. tirazil and Capo Verds, by British packet . Oct. 4. Cape of Good Hope, Ascension, and St. Helena.. Nov. 1. China, Penang, and Singapore, via Southampton. Oct. 2. via Marseilles ...Oct. 13. Falkland Islands Oct. 4. Gibraltar, via Southampton Oct. '2. India (Calcutta), and Ceylon, via Southampton Oct. 2. via Marseilles Oct. 13. India (Bombay), via Southampton .. Oct. 15. • via Marseilles Oct. 9. Lisbon Malta, Egypt, and Aden, via Southampton Oct, 2. via Marseilles Oct. 9. Newfoundland ..Oct. 1, 5 Oporto and Vigo • U. S. and British N. America, by Brit. packet Oct. 9. by U.S. packet by Canadian packet. Oct. 3. W.C. of Africa, Madeira, and Tencriffe Bahamas, via New York Oct. 23. Mexico...... All parts of West Indies, including Chili, Peru ' I Oct. 14. California, and Briti s h Columbia.. BIRTH. BETHELL—On the 2d inst., at Rise, the wife of William Bethel!, Esq., of a son. Cl [ ArmAN.—On the Ist inst., at his father's house, Wan stead, the wife of Robert Barclay Chapman, Esq., of the Bengal C.S., of a daughter. SUFT.—On the 2d inst., at Her Majesty's Mint, the wife of Herbert M. Suft, Esq., of a son. TURNBULL. — On the 2d inst., at 1 , Muscovy-court, Tower. , bill, E,C., the wife of Mr. John Turnbull, of a son. MARRIAGES. FIELD—TunNouR.—On the 2d inst eldest son oat Chiddingf G. fold Church, George Hanbury Field, Es q ., Field, Esq., of A s h urst-park, Kent, to the Lady Geer giana Tumour, third daughter of Earl Winterton. LACIILAN— SHEARIVOOD.—On the 2d inst., at Saint John's, Ang e ll- town, Brixton, Joseph, eldest son of the late Joseph Lachlan, Esq., of Grosvenor-place, Brixton, to Isabella, only daughter of the late George Shearwood, Esq., of Gloucester -terrace, Hyde-park. DEATHS. COTTON.—On the 2d inst., at Exeter, M. Cullen Cotton, Esq., late of Greenpark, Bath. CROSS.--On the 2d inst., at his residence, Champion-hills Camberwell, William Cross, Esq. CONANT.—On the 3)th ult., at his seat, Archer Lodge, Hants, Paynton. P. S. Connant, Esq. DANIELL.—On the 2d inst., at offhaut House, near Lewes , Sussex, Ei ward Maxwell Daniell, late Commander Hon. E.1.C.5., of 39, Gloucester-square, Hyde-park, ag ed 65 ' RILEY.—On the 29th ult., at Bellesfield, Windermere, Ja' s , s R l i . ley, Esq., Breesley House, Halif ax , Y or k s hi re , a ge WATERALL.—On the 3d inst., at Waddon Lodge, Croy' don, Mrs. Watterall, of Bennet-street, Stamford-stree t, widow of Mr. G. Waterall, late of Derby. LONDON: Printed and Published by JOHN CHAPLI,O 149 of N 0.112, Strand, Printer, a t T HE S UN O f fi ce, No. 11 Strand, in the Precin c t o f the Savoy, in the CottntY ° Middleem—Saturday, October 4, Iti64.