The Sun.
London, England, 1863-08-13 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, THURSDAY EVENING, AUGUST 13, 1863.

try, and arc rapidly gaining Pickett's rear. Tho
order is given to fall back, and our men commence the
movement, doggedly contending for every inch of ground.
The enernypress heavily our retreating line, and many noble
spirits who had passed safely through the fiery ordeal of the
advance and charge now fall on the right and on the left.
this Arm cisrtietittedalismwoomimendtedthaendshlae
Georgia brigade is moved forward to cover their retreat,
awndrsi:ghAvst
and the fight closes here. Our loss in this charge was very
shatteredt there m enemy'sn an t ohf
severe, and the Yankee prisoners taken acknowledge that
theirs was immense. Anticipating that a renewal of the
attack would be made on this point in his line, Meade had
concentrated a very heavy force of infantry in support of his
batteries, and the fire of our artillery was said to have been
very
destructive to them, lying as they were in heavy masses
in rear of their own guns. I have stated that just after
just
tkett commenced the attack our batteries ceased firing,
and upon inquiry I learn that they had exhausted all their
ammunition, and were thus compelled to withdraw. This
is most remarkable, and would seem to demand investi-
gation.
During the attack made by Pickett, M'Laws had been
actively engaged on our right, but with no decisive results.
Ewell, also on our extreme left, had been threatening the
enemy in his position on Cemetery Hill ; but these were
mere feints, to cover and divert attention from our main
attack upon the centre. You will see that twice we took
the M'Pherson Heights—the real key to the enemy's whole
position—once by a single brigade on Thursday, and again
by a single division on Friday, and that in both instances
we lost it by the failure of proper supports to the at•
tacking parties. On whom the blame rests for the second
failure I shall not attempt to say. The most careless
reader will be at no loss to discover the responsible party.
For the failure to send in support in the first assault (on
Thursday) the conviction is geneeal in this army that
Major General Anderson should be held responsible. It
was a portion of his division that made the assault and
successful charge, and two of his strongest brigades, al-
though on the field, were not put in action. Why this was
so I presume and hope he will be able to explain when he
comes to make his official report.
Nothing further transpired during the afternoon and
night of Friday. On Saturday we were engaged with
strong eeorking parties burying our dead and caring for the
wounded.
It is now apparent that the enemy's position was almost
impregnable. It was further made known that the three
days' fighting had nearly exhausted our ammunition. There
had been indications the night before (Friday) that the
enemy were moving off ; but all Saturday morning the
atmosphere was so hazy that nothing could be seen, and
from noon until night the rain poured in such torrents
as to utterly preclude any accurate observations being
made. During the whole of the day our wounded—at
least such as were able to bear it—were being sent
towards Hagerstown, and late in the afternoon our as tillery
and waggon trains also commenced moving in the same
direction. At dark our whole army were put in motion,
taking the road to Fairfield, and crossing South Mountain
at Waterloo Gap. Our falling back was orderly, and with-
out loss of men or guns. All our artillery was brought off,
and very few, if any, stragglers fell into the enemy's hands.
Having crossed the mountain we moved on to Hagerstown,
where we arrived on Monday, the Gth. Here we took
position, and calmly awaited the approach of the enemy.
On Tuesday his advance got as near to us as Funkstown,
four miles south of Hagerstown, and on Wednesday and
Thursday his whole command confronted us. We were
anxious for him to commence the attack, and hourly ex-
pected the ball to open. During Friday, Saturday, Sun-
day, and Monday, we lay face to face ; but the enemy re-
fused to accept our wager of battle. On Monday night,
finding that the enemy had no idea of offering us battle,
but had gone to work entrenching and fortifying, General
Lee determined to re-cross the river. I have no doubt the
continued and heavy rains, and consequent rapid rising Of
the Potomac, had some influence on this movement. We
are now all on the "sacred soil of old Virginia," in fine
spirits and good health, and fully prepared to meet the
Yankee army whenever it shall get ready to move upon us.
No one in the army has had his confidence in Gen. Lee in
the slightest degree impaired by the last month's campaign.
He had difficulties to contend with which impartial history
will duly record, and his fair fame will not receive a single
blot by this campaign. I shall at some future moment,
when I have leisure, give you some more full particulars of
the campaign and what we accomplished. Our loss in the
three days' fighting at Gettysburg will fall below 10,000 in
killed, wounded, and missing. The enemy's loss is at least
30,000 killed and wounded, and 10,000 prisoners. Some of
the prisoners—indeed most of them—were paroled in Penn-
sylvania. The balance have been sent to Richmond.
The sun rises, clouds obscure its brightness as if loth to
look upon the scene to witness such inhumanity, but from
which no people are exempt who ever left a history or bene-
fited the human race. The conflict began ere Tubal Cain
first worked in brass, and will continue till a higher virtue
than man has ever reached shall govern events. Soon the
division leaves the main road, makes a detour to the right,
winds over hill through wood towards the right of our line
of battle. The morning is now wearing away; at times a
cannon shot breaks the quiet, and a shell comes screaming
through the air. Now and then the skirmishers break
forth, varying from the sharp, quick crack of a single rifle
to perfect volleys. Hour after hour thus passes, and the
battle is not yet begun. Our troops are raking position.
Ewell is on the left, Hill holds the centre, and Longstreet
on the right. Long lines of men are moving across yonder
fields, or marching through that piece of wood. Batteries
of artillery occupy this hillock and that mound ; whilst
along the low range of hills just back of Gettysburg at
intervals are batteries unlimbered and ready for action.
Towards the left a body of cavalry are slowly moving.
It is now nearly noon ; the clouds break away—the air is
warm and sultry. e'e The signal flags are waving fast intel-
ligence along our lines. Presently the shrill sound of a
Whitworth awakes the silence, then batteries slowly open
from this point and that. The enemy reply with vigour.
The fire on either side rapidly increases ; dense columns of
smoke hang over the beautiful valley, and, rising upward,
slowly float away. From that point a new battery belches
forth—another and still another joins in the awful chorus—
the very air seems filled with hissing, screaming, bursting
shells. The lurid flame leaps madly from the cannon's
mouth—each moment the roar grows more intense—now
chime in volleys of small arms. But where is that division
which is to play so conspicuous a part in this day's tragedy ?
they are in line of battle, jusc fronting that frowning hill,
from which heavy batteries are belching forth shell and
shrapnel with fatal accuracy. The men are lying close to
the ground ; hours pass, and the deadly missiles come thick
and fast on their mission of death. See that shattered
arm ; that leg shot off, that headless body, and here the
mangled form of a young and gallant lieutenant, who had
braved the perils of many battles. That hill must be carried,
to rout the enemy; a terrible chastisement has been inflicted
on him ; with immense loss he had been driven from his
position two days previous—this is his stronghold. This
captured, rout is inevitable ; exceedingly strong by nature,
but rendered more so by the works thrown up the night
before. It is a moment of great emergency; if unshrinkio g
valour or human courage can carry these heights it will be
done. Gen. Pickett receives the order to charge those bat-
teries at the opportune moment. The cannonade still goes
on with intense fury ; our batteries are handled with great
skill. This battery and that limbers up, advance to the front,
wheel into action, and again the roar of cannon becomes
almost deafening. Our shells seem to burst with terrible
accuracy ; now a caisson of the enemy's is blown up ;
quickly another follows ; their fire slackens; the order comes
to advance. 'chat flag which waved amid the wild tempest
of battle at Gaines' Mill, Frazer's Farm, and Manassas,
never rose more proudly. Kemper, with as gallant men as
ever trod beneath that flag, leads the right; Garnett, with
his heroes, brings up the left; and the veteran Armistead,
with his brave troops, moves forward in support. The dis-
tance is more than half a mile. As they advance the enemy
fire with great rapidity—shell and solid shot give place to
grape and canister—the very earth quivers beneath the
heavy roar—wide gaps are made in this regiment and that
brigade—yet they quckly close up and move steadily on-
ward. That flag goes down. See how quickly it again
mounts upward, borne by some gallant man, who feels
keenly the honour of his old Commonwealth in this hour
which is to test her manhood. The line moves onward,
straight onward—cannons roaring, grape and canister
plunging and ploughing through the ranks, bullets whizzing
as thick as hailstones in winter, and men falling as leaves
fall when shaken by the blasts of autumn. In double quick,
and with a shout which rises above the roar of battle, they
charge. Now they pour in volleys of musketry—they
reach the works—the contest rages with intense fury—men
fight almost hand to hand—the red cross and gridiron wave
Genc, opiseewith defiantly in close proximity—the enemy are slowly yielding
—a Federal officer dashing forward in front of his shrink-
ing lunackn est,t, and g
in
tflhaeshsipnlgensdwidordv,aluorugr of
esthehmistotsrotaonpsd:
moves among them as if courting death by his own daring
intrepidity. The noble Garnett is dead, Armistead wounded,
and the brave Kemper, with hat in hand, still cheering on
his men, falls from his horse into the ranks of the enemy.
His men rush forward, rescue their general, and he is borne
mortally wounded from the field. Where is the gallant
Williams? The first is there, but his clear voice is no longer
heard—he has fallen lifeless, and there goes his horse now
riderless. There stand the decimated ranks of the Third ;
and Mayo, though struck, stands firm with his faithful men,
animating them to yet more daring deeds ; but Callcott, the
Christian soldier, who stood unmoved amid this carnival
of death, has fought his last battle; no sound shall awake
him to glory again till the summons of the Great Judge,
announcing to him the reward of the faithful soldier who
has fought the good fight. Patten, Oten, and Terry, who
but a moment since stood at the head of their respective
regiments, are wounded. The brave Hunton, hero of Lees-
burg, most worthy successor of the noble Garnett, Stewart,
and Gant, lies wounded, Carrington, his gallant regiment
shattered, stands firmly, flaunting defiantly his colours in
the very face of the enemy. Allen and Ellis killed. Hodges,
too, has fallen, and the modest, chivalrous Edmunds lies
numbered with the noble dead ; Aylett wounded, and Ma-
gruder has gone down in the shock of battle. The fight
goes on—but few are loft, and the shrinking columns of the
enemy gain confidence from the heavy reinforcements ad-
vanced to their support. They, too, are moving in large
force on the right flank. This division, small at first, with
ranks torn and shattered, most of its officers killed or

wounded, no valour able to rescue victory from such a
grasp, annihilation or capture inevitable, slowly, reluctantly
fell back. It was not given to these few remaining brave
men to accomplish human impossibilities, The enemy dared
not follow them beyond their works, Such was the fate of
the general and regimental officers—longer is the list of
junior officers, and still longer the roll of the " unknown
dead"—men who endured privations without murmur,
hardships difficult to realise till actually experienced with-
out complaint, with few opportunities of realising any dis-
tinction which ambition might covet as the reward of meri-
torious conduct, save a soldier's grave : and yet they bore
them all, and willingly would they have submitted to a
severer lot in vindication of their country's liberty. The
Confederacy can find no reward worthy the noble bearing
of its private soldiers.

Night now approaches, the wounded are being borne off
to their respective hospitals : many with slight wounds
plodded along, leaving the ambulances to their less fortu-
nate comrades. With night the battle closed, our army
holding the same position from which it had driven the
enemy two days previous. One by one the stars came out
in the quiet sky, and over that field of carnage hung the
sweet influences of the Pleiades. In the series of engage-
ments a few pieces of artillery and 8,000 prisoners were cap-
tured by our army. Our loss in killed, wounded, and miss-
ing supposed about 10,000, whilst the enemy we understand
acknowledge a loss of 30,000. The army of Northern Vir-
ginia, with zeal unabated, courage intrepid, devotion un-
chilled, with unbounded confidence in the wisdom of that
great chieftain who has so often led them to victory, stands
ready to advance their standards further into the enemy's
country, or repel any new invasion of the Confederacy.
Though many s Virginian home will mourn the loss of
some noble spirit, yet, at the name of Pickett's division
and the battle of Gettysburg, how the eye will glisten and
the blood course quicker, and the heart beat warm, as
among its noble dead is recalled the name of some cherished
one. They bore themselves worthy of their lineage and
their state. Who would recall them from their bed of glory?
Each sleeps in a hero's grave I—Richmond Enquirer.

with an assault. This was a case of most extraordinary
exaggeration. The witnesses had said they heard blows.
Did they believe that a slap in the face, given by the tiny
hand of that young woman, not yet 18, would have been
heard through a G-inch stone wall ? The women wit-
nesses had worked so hard upon their imagination that one
of them said that she could trace the marks of the nails
of a boot upon the girl's shoulders, It was clear these
good women were partisans and had made up their
minds to the hearing many things which had not actually
occurred. He would give them credit for humanity, but if
they had heard all they had stated, would they not have
given information to the police ? They would not have been
contented with merely chattering to their neighbours.
When Mr. Aust, the builder, had gone into the next house,
these women had cried out as loud as they could, and yet
Mr. Aust could not hear them when he was in the next
house. Masters and mistresses had a right to chastise their
servants and apprentices to a certain degree. It was impos-
sible to call the prisoner or his wife to state the real facts. If
this had been a civil action for an assault they might have
been examined; but in a criminal coart, as the law now
stood, bu; which he hoped would not long remain, a pri..
soner could not be examined. He should, however, give some
evidence which, he thought, would alter the case very ma-
terially. The learned counsel then stated the nature of the
evidence he should produc3. When the poor girl was upon
her deathbed and was told of that fact, in answer to ques-
tions put to her she stated that she had not been unkindly
treated, and to the last she had clung to her mistress and
begged not to be taken from her. These young people had
just entered upon life; they had borne the highest character
for kindness and humanity. He would leave the case in their
hands, not without anxiety, but with strong hopes that there
had only been that ordinary correction which a master was
justified in exercising. He trusted the verdict would dissi-
pate the popular clamour which had been raised, and that
these young people would be returned to their homes with
characters perfectly freed from every stain.
Mr. Davis—l am the relieving officer of the Bath Board
of Guardians. The girl was placed out in 1862. We visit
those who are put out twice a year. I saw her last Decem-
ber. She expressed herself satisfied with her master and
mistress. I saw her again in May, and she did not then
make any complaint.
The learned Judge said if that evidence was admitted he
should allow a former witness to be recalled and ask what
the girl had told her.
Mr. Collier then said he would not proceed with that
head of evidence.
Mr. Aust, a builder, was recalled—l went to look at these
houses. The width of the wall between them is six inches
of stone, in addition to mortar. The best first-class houses
in Bath have not a greater thickness in the party walls.
Words could not be heard from house to house, nor could
the sound of blows. It is impossible. Articulate words
could not by possibility be heard.
Cross-examined—There were no cracks in the wall. I
know this house well, because I superintended its building
for my brother-in-law.

___ • -
Thos. Isaacs, an architect in Bath, confirmed this testi-
mony as to the thickness of the wall. Ile bored two holes
through the wall to ascertain it. Could not distinguish any
sound when persons were speaking at the top of their voices.
Ann Morgan.L-I saw Mr. Aust at No. 12. Mrs. Thrack-
rell said he was there to try her wall, and she said she would
have pushed him out if ho had come into her kitchen. I
never heard a word through the wall.
Several witnesses were then called to speak to the charac-
ter of the prisoner.
Mr. Saunders having replied,
Mr. Justice Wiles summed up. It had been laid down
in the old law that a master might use moderate correction
to his servant as he would do to his own child, but the
reasonableness of that correction must vary according to the
usage of society. That law had its origin at a time when
the government of a master over his servant was of a more
paternal character than it was at the present time ; but he
must warn persons that if a master used force towards his
servant he would be amenable to the law. There was no
case in modern times where a master could in anger strike
his servant without being liable to be called upon to justify
his act.

r The jury returned a verdict of not guilty.
There was a similar indictment against the wife, who was
defended by Mr. Prideaux.
The learned Judge said he thought the whole case had
been tried out, and he thought the other indictment ought
not to be proceeded with, because both cases depend upon
the same evidence.
Mr Saunders not acceding to this,
Mr. Justice Willes said he should consult the Chief
Justice; and, having done so, his Lordship said he thought
it would be a waste of judicial force—it would be breaking
a fly upon a wheel to proceed further.
No evidence being offered, the female prisoner was ac-
quitted.

Mr. Justice Willes said he would not say that he con-
curred in the verdict the jury had given. It must be a
satisfaction to find that no person, however humble, could
be illtreated without justice being done them.

OXFORD CIRCUIT.—GLOUCESTER, AUG. 12.
CROWN COURT.
(Before Mr. Justice Byles.)
Thomas Adams and Henry James Phillips were indicted
for feloniously assaulting and beating Joseph William King,
and stealing £2 Bs. and a chain and watch from his person
at Bristol on July 20.

Mr. Cooke was for the prosecution. The prisoners were
not defended by counsel.

The prosecutor was walking down St. John-street, Bristol,
near St. John's-arch, on Monday night, the 20th of July,
between 11 and 12 o'clock, and was about 20 yards from a
gas-lamp, when two men attacked him from behind, One
got on his back and squeezed his throat under his chin by
forcing his knuckles against his throat, and when he cried
out the other sprang forward and hit him in the bowels.
One of them searched his pocket and took out £2 Bs. in
money, and took away his chain. The watch and lockets
were picked up by the police afterwards at the place where
the attack had taken place. The only question in the case
was as to the identity of the prisoners. The prosecutor had
no opportunity of seeing their faces, but he took notice of
their backs ; and he pursued Adams for some distance, and
when he had stopped at the corner of a lane a policeman
came up, who had just met Adams running away.
The jury found Adams guilty, but Phillips not guilty.
The same prisoners were then indicted for robbing John
Harding, at Bristol, on the 25th of July.
Mr. Cooke was for the prosecution.

The prosecutor was walking up West-street, a little after
nine o'clock at night, on Saturday, the 25th of July, when
Adams came up to him and took him by the waistcoat, and
would not let him pass. Adams then slipped on one side ;
the prosecutor turned round, and Phillips then seized him
round the waist. The prosecutor was enabled to see his
face, and identified him by his sharp nose. They then loft
him, and be found his watch was gone and his guard hang-
ing loose. Phillips was further identified by a witness named
Williams.

The jury found both prisoners guilty.
A previous conviction was proved against Phillips.
The learned Judge postponed the passing of the sentence.

NORTHERN CIRCUIT. --LIVERPOOL, Aug. 12.
CROWN COURT.
(Before Mr. Justice Blackburn.)
Alexander Fletcher, aged 20, by trade a journeyman
joiner, was indicted for having, at Manchester, on the 3d of
April (Good Friday), feloniouslykilled and slain one Thomas
Shaw.
Mr, Pope appeared for the prosecution; Mr. Torr was
for the defence.
The case for the prosecution was that the deceased was a
hairdresser, and lived in Rochdale-road, Manchester. On
the evening of Good Friday he was with a friend named
Curran at the Bellevue-gardens, and between 9 and 10
o'clock was dancing with his companion and two women
when three or four men, of whom the prisoner was one,
jostled against them. Deceased requested the men to desist
from their annoyance, but they said they would do as they
pleased. Deceased then asked one of them whether they
came from Oldham, as he thought so, " they appearing so
uncultivated." The question annoyed the men, and there-
upon a scuffle took place, deceased's friend being struck, and
deceased himself joining in the melee, striking some of the
offending party " right and left." He was assaulted, and
stabbed both at the back of the head and in the side. He was
taken to the Royal Infirmary at Manchester, where he died on
the 10th of June. On the 19th of April, as the deceased was
in a dangerous state, Mr. Trafford, the stipendiary magis-
trate for the division, was sent for to the infirmary,Tandihe
deceased then made a statement, which was
placed
byth Mr.
Trafford in writing. On the 22d April, having told
Boner the charge on which he was apprehended, that ofestparbl--
bing Shaw, Mr. Trafford caused him to be taken to the infir-
mary, where, at the bedside of Shaw, in
the deposition taken on the 19th was read over prisoner'sby presTencrafe.,
o
ford. Shaw then swore positively to the pbriesonertasi:trhr.oe man
who who stabbed him, identifying him as
in
shouldered, and without beard. He admitted gthata he struck
the prisoner twice before the latter stabbed him. Witnesses
were called who deposed to the prisoner having been one of
the party who joined in the assault upon deceased and his
companion near the orchestra, in the gardens. Prisoner
had several times during the period of his confinement ad-
mitted having been in the gardens, but denied stabbing de-
ceased. A brother of his and several other witnesses were
called for the defence, who denied that the prisoner was
dancing at the time, or taking any part in the disturbance,
and declared that he was not near the deceased when the
latter was stabbed. The prisoner, who was in respectable
employment, had hitherto borne a good character.
A lengthened trial of the case resulted in the jury re-
turning a verdict of not guilty.
John Raynor, a respectable-looking middle-aged man,
the assistant-overseer of the township of Chatterton, was in-
dicted for embezzling three several sums of £1 Bs. 6d., £4
75., and £2 145,, the property of his masters, the overseers
of the township.
Mr. Higgin prosecuted, and Mr. Pope defended the pri-
soner.

The prisoner, it appeared, filled the office of collector of
poor rates of his township, and in fulfilling its duties it ap.
peared that he had received the several sums of money set
out in the indictment, from different ratepayers, and had
not accounted for the same in the books of the township, or
paid them over to the overseers, It
appeared from the