SEPTEMBER 18, 1864


There are three kinds of peace supposable, and they may be defined as follows, naming first the most objectionable:

Peace with separation and the recognition of the slave Confederacy.

Peace by armistice and compromise. If this should result in union, it must be a union of sand, with a general government of no power or standing; and doctrines of paramount State allegiance more threatening, arrogant and dictatorial than ever before claimed by the wildest pro-slavery theorists. The recognition and payment of the Confederate debt, in addition to that of the U. S. Government, would be a matter of course, thus doubling the taxation of the nation. And we would have the shameful humiliation of the nation staggering under a debt incurred to destroy it. The Government would have neither respect abroad nor at home.

Peace without trifling or concession with an unjust, damnable and traitorous rebellion. The triumph of right over wrong; of civilization over barbarism; of a government of splendid origin and history, against the oligarchy of an insolent, domineering class, who think the mastership of a few slaves has elevated them to the privileges of nobility, and given them the right to tyrannize over white men not born to that sort of privileged inheritance.

We defy the most imaginative mind to think of any other kind of peace, or any modification of the above definitions. The first is dissolution, which is wished for in the North only by a few ambitious conspirators who would thrive in petty republics; and in the South by a few beguiled and insane communities, leaving out the thinking and intellectual class, whose voices are silenced by terrorism; the system controlled by leaders without sympathy with the true interests of their people, and so far committed by their ineffaceable acts of treason, that restoration would be their personal, social and political downfall.

The second species of peace is that advocated by the Copperheads of the North. Of these, the less reflecting have not considered the features included in our definition. They have crafty leaders who have kept them deceived–who know full well the truth of the issues we have depicted in speaking of this second kind of peace; but these vulture-like demagogues think they can ride into power and fatten upon the ruin, disgrace and impoverishment of the nation.

What a glorious future is secure, in case of the attainment of the boon of peace, by the proud and loyal course of putting down the enemies of the nation and dictating surrender at the cannon’s mouth. This will bring with it no memories of shame for the posterity of the country to brood over and wish to blot from the national history; no dalliance with the foes of republican government and of the equal rights of a loyal people. A future of untold magnificence; wealth and prosperity born of free and requited labor; hundreds of millions of population, boasting the success of the experiment of popular government and glorying in an untarnished history; all these are the concomitants of success in the present struggle. The privations of the early settlers fleeing from intolerance to a land where they could indulge in freedom of religious opinion and conscience; the traditions of the American revolution; and the triumphs of the last fight against despotism, treason and anarchy–all these will be gems in the casket of national memories. The world will respect, and tyrants will fear, the greatness of the United States of America. Such a result is worth a struggle of twenty years; but one year of fortitude and perseverance in a just cause will accomplish it all.

Commercial Matters.

The continued decline in gold for several successive days has completely upset the calculations of commercial men and all kinds of merchandise, foreign and domestic. The business yesterday was nominally small, and no inconsiderable part of the sales were forced. The increasing probabilities of a speedy peace between the North and the South, which are indicated by the Union successes in all directions, have exerted a widespread influence, and the merchants generally evince a determination to sail as near the wind as possible in order to guard against every contingency. The commercial transactions now-a-days are, therefore, small.


Interesting from Washington.

The Enlistment of Rebel Prisoners.

An interesting and important question has arisen as to the acceptability of rebel prisoners who desire to take the oath of allegiance and enlist in the Union armies. Six prisoners of war, who have been confined at Point Lookout, wishing to enlist, were dropped from the prisoners’ roll and forwarded to this city. A recent order prohibits rebel deserters from enlisting, and the question arises whether prisoners captured with arms in their hands, by taking the oath of allegiance, become deserters. Officers are divided in opinion upon this point, and the prisoners referred to have been committed to the Old Capitol to await the decision of the Secretary of War.

The Republicans and the Presidential Campaign.

The Republicans are actively engaged here in the extensive circulation of campaign documents, and measures are being taken to harmonize at once all the conflicting elements and induce a united and hearty support of the Baltimore nominees, which are said to promise complete success; and it is claimed that within a few days all opposing interests in the republican ranks will be silenced, and that, with the Chicago platform annexed, McClellan will stand not the slightest chance of success against the vigorous and united opposition which he will encounter. At the same time the Democrats have already lost much of the confidence which was displayed when the action of the Convention was made known, and acknowledge that the platform and Pendleton are heavy weights to carry in the Presidential race.

Agricultural Prospects.

The recent reports to the Agricultural Department show that the rains of the last four or five weeks have very largely improved the crops, and that deficiency which was feared from the effect of the prolonged drought will be to a great extent avoided. There is now no danger that there will be a sufficiency of agricultural products for consumption and to supply the export demand.

SEPTEMBER 19, 1864

A Novel Proposition for Peace.

It is put forth in a Republican paper, the Kalamazoo Telegraph in Michigan, not by the editor, but by a much respected clergyman who is highly spoken of by both parties for his sincerity, purity of character and his interest in his country’s welfare. The proposition we quote is preceded by a long and earnest argument in favor of peace and reconciliation, but this we have not room for:

1. From this time until the 1st of January, 1900, let the independence of the Southern Confederation be acknowledged by the Northern States.

2. On that day, namely, the 1st of January, 1900, let slavery absolutely, entirely, completely and utterly cease to exist in the Southern States.

3. Let all such colored persons a are practically emancipated, whether by fortune of war or otherwise, remain in the state of freedom.

4. Let a general amnesty be proclaimed to all who have taken part in the war, absolving them from all punishment as traitors, deserters, etc.

5. Let all estates cheated on account of political differences or political crimes be restored to the owners from whom they had been taken.

6. Let a treaty of alliance, as between two powerful and independent nations, adjust the modus operandi in carrying out the provisions mutually resolved upon, as also respecting the exaction of customs, dues, etc., to be regulated by each treaty.

7. On, or shortly after the 1st of January, 1900, let delegates from each government confer together on the feasibility and advisability of reconstructing the great national Union. Slavery being then abolished absolutely, and good fraternal feeling re-established among these great and noble States.

The details must be left to the Plenipotentiaries appointed to adjust these most unhappy differences. I have only ventured to point to first principles and to trace the outline of amelioration, which in all humility I lay before the candid and reflecting men of all parties in the United States, being the sole agencies who wield the scepters of political power in the land.

With my prayers for the speedy consummation of peace.



The New York Herald, in a long account of the recent fight at Mobile Bay, mentions the following incident, which, we think, reflects no credit on Admiral Farragut:

When it was reported to Admiral Farragut that the rebels had surrendered and that Buchanan was wounded, he sent a staff officer off to receive the rebel admiral’s sword. Some one asked Farragut if he would not go off himself and see Buchanan. The former merely replied, “No, sir, he is my enemy.” Subsequently, when the staff officer returned with Buchanan’s sword, it was represented to the Admiral that Buchanan had expressed a wish to see him. “Well, sir, he shan’t see me,” replied the old Salamander. The looking along the bloody decks of his ship, he added, “I suppose he would be friends; but with these brave men, my comrades, mangled, dying and dead about me, and looking at the destruction he has caused in this fleet, I can only consider him an enemy.”

Lincoln has ordered that no luxuries or presents of any kind of food be allowed our prisoners confined in the North.

It is said that in the coal regions of Pennsylvania there is such a repugnance to the draft that it will be impossible to enforce it.->

Borden, the condensed milk man, is going to make meat biscuit for the Federal army. All the nutritious properties of a half ton of beef will be concentrated in a few pounds weight.

George Francis Train is lecturing throughout the North, for the benefit of the widows and orphans of soldiers. Subject, “Usurpations of Abraham Lincoln.”

Ex. Gov. Campbell, of Tennessee, asserted in a speech recently made, that Colonel Woolford, of Kentucky, is kept under arrest because he declared his support for McClellan.

Carl Schurz, the most prominent and influential man in the West amongst the Germans, has announced his determination to vote for Fremont.

The N. Y. World says that an armistice would be cheerfully accepted by the South. But this is not because the South is exhausted, or because the Southern people are unable or unwilling to continue the war. On the contrary, the South is better prepared now, the Southern armies are stronger and more effective now, and the Southern people are more united now in their determination to achieve their independence than ever.

There are over thirty-eight thousand Yankee prisoners confined at Andersonville, Ga. The Richmond Examiner thinks it bad policy to have so many confined at one place.


The New York Times, in an article upon the difficulty of getting a recruit for the army and the disposition of all men, Republicans and Democrats, to buy others to serve rather than serve themselves, says:

Is this Democratic? Is this republican? Is this the way that loyal men ought to sand by “the bets government the world ever saw?” Does every one suppose that this war can end successfully for us, or end in any way but in ruin, if the men whom the people have commissioned “to see that the republic suffers no damage,” can get no better support than this from that portion of the population which is most interested in the preservation of the Union, and has the keenest and highest appreciation of its value? Does any one seriously suppose that a struggle, the throes of which are felt to the uttermost ends of the earth–which may without the old Roman exaggeration be fairly called “orbis terrarum perturbatione”–can be brought to a triumphant close by speeches and toasts and “drawing checks!”1 If we were to judge of the mass of men at the North from the desperation of some of the efforts which we witness on the part of towns, counties and States even to escape the draft, we might fairly conclude that, if it were possible, our next army would be entirely composed of the sweepings of emigrant ships, of Negro slaves, and of any other refuse we might pick up, and–here is the worst of it–of that noble remnant of the old army, who, faithful to the last, have gone back after three years of hardship and danger, to face the storm once more. There is hardly a county in the North at this moment which is not busy selling bonds in order to buy up for service in the army the worst military material to be found in the Western World–foreign mercenaries and liberated slaves. The call of the government for men is the signal, not for the rush to arms, but for a prodigious scratching of pens and issuing of “evidences of indebtedness.” Everybody who can takes up his check-book, not his sword, and meets the provost Marshal with a smiling patriotic face.

SEPTEMBER 20, 1864

From the Army of the Potomac.
Further Details of the Capture of Cattle by the Rebel Army.

New York, Sept. 19.–The World’s Army of the Potomac correspondent of the 17th says of the capture of cattle by the rebels that the beeves, about 3000 in number, were herded in the rear of the army, and near the same, and guarded by the 1st District of Columbia cavalry. The enemy, through scouts, had learned this fact, and knew all about the strength of the guard, etc.

Accordingly at daylight on the 16th, the rebels were seen approaching in two strong lines of battle, the first W. H. Lee’s cavalry, and the second Wade Thompson’s legion, the aggregate number probably reaching 5000. Quickly breaking in front of our pickets, the enemy turned by right and left, moved around the cattle and drove off the entire herd, likewise many horses belonging to our men. This was done so quickly that reinforcements could not be brought up in time. Two brigades under Gens. Davis and Kautz at once set out in pursuit of the rebels, but nothing definite was heard from them up to the close of this dispatch.

While this was going on an attack was made on our rear and our pickets were driven in on the main works. This, however, was only a feint to aid in the capture of the cattle. The force making the capture went away round our left, making a very wide detour.

The Herald’s correspondent says: “In the pursuit our force came upon the rebels in force at  small creek near Hawkinsville and the Jerusalem plank road. They were entrenched beyond the stream with the bridge torn up and an almost impassable swamp intervening. Several attempts were made to dislodge the enemy, but they failed. In one of the charges the 1st Massachusetts cavalry dismounted, became intermingled with the enemy, and fought them hand to hand, but were obliged to fall back. The enemy had six pieces of artillery while we had only four. A prisoner informed us that the rebels had captured a whole regiment from Kautz, and from his description it was the 1st District of Columbia. Our chance for recapturing the beeves is very small. The loss in the 2d division was 20 or 25. A telegraph construction corps, numbering 40 men, was also captured.”


Torpedo Boats.–A trial trip of one of the new torpedo boats, built under the superintendence of Captain C. S. Boggs, U. S. Navy, took place last week. The management of the torpedo machinery was under the control of Engineer John L. Lay, U. S. Navy. A shell was exploded in fine style, giving general satisfaction to all who witnessed it. It will not be long before the merits of this new style of submarine warfare will be tested in actual combat.2


When the war commenced, where the town of Corry, Pennsylvania, now stands was a dense wilderness. The discovery of oil wells in the vicinity has built up a flourishing place of over four thousand inhabitants.

The War on the Rio Grande.

Cairo, Ill., Sept. 18.–The steamer Belle of Memphis has arrived, bringing papers of yesterday evening.

Sergt. Clarke, of the 91st Illinois regiment, furnishes additional particulars of the affair on the Rio Grande. It appears that on the morning of the 6th the French moved out of Bagdad with a force of 5000 and commenced to ascend the Rio Grande with the purpose of attacking Matamoras. They were uninterrupted until reaching a point opposite White’s ranch, where they met Cortinas with a Mexican force. An artillery duel ensued, when the French were compelled to fall back in confusion, and were closely pursued for three miles, when, coming to a piece of chaparral, they made a stand.

Cortinas opened on the Imperial forces with shot and shell. While engaged at this point the rebel Colonel Ford came down the Rio Grande with a large drove of cattle for the French, but seeing they were engaged with Cortinas, they promptly espoused the cause of the French and opened on the Mexican rear. Seeing this the Imperial army made an attempt to turn the tide of battle and charged the Mexicans with the bayonet. They were, however, driven back to the cover of the chaparral. Cortinas then brought to bear two pieces of artillery on Ford’s force, obliging him to retire. About this time the 91st Illinois regiment, stationed at Brazos Santiago, hearing the firing on the Rio Grande, were ordered to march to the scene, an arrived in time to witness the repulse of the rebels.

The gallant “Sucker” boys then pitched into Ford and drove him five miles, capturing his camp equipage and about 30 stand of arms.

In the meantime Cortinas succeeded in putting the Imperialists to flight, and drove them to Bayou Del Rio. As his artillery could not compete with their heavy ordnance on shipboard, he withdrew his forces to White Ranch and crossed 500 men into Texas, where they lay during the night of the 6th by the side of the American troops.

No sooner had Cortinas crossed the Rio Grande than e lowered the Mexican flag and hoisted the stars and stripes, which was enthusiastically greeted by the Mexican soldiers as well as the American.

On the 9th Cortinas followed Ford to the old battle field of Resaca de la Palma, where he rested his troops for the night, while Ford fell back to Brownsville. Cortinas dispatched couriers to Matamoras to order the forces there to move away.

Early on the morning of the 8th, 500 Mexican troops moved up the Rio Grande, crossed the river and came down on the Texas side, attacking Brownsville simultaneously with Cortinas. The struggle for Brownsville was brief and resulted in the defeat of the rebels, who were driven from the town, and Cortinas took possession. The exit of the rebels was so hasty that they left their flags floating on the court-house and other public buildings, which were soon torn down and the Stars and Stripes hoisted amid shouts of the citizens and the Mexican soldiers, who were as proud of our starry banner as our own brave boys.

SEPTEMBER 21, 1864

War Matters.
Another Brilliant Victory!

The loyal heart of the country was gladdened yesterday by the best kind of news from General Sheridan. The details, which are given below, need no elucidation. They are official and speak for themselves. The attack on Early was made on Monday morning, continued nearly all day, and resulted, as will be seen, in one of the most important victories as yet achieved on Virginia soil.

Detailed Account of the Battle.–The Baltimore American’s account of the great battle gives quite full and interesting particulars:

General Sheridan, having learned on Sunday that the main portion of Early’s forces were encamped in the vicinity of Bunker Hill and Stephenson’s depot, resolved to mass his forces on the Berryville and Winchester pike, and by a rapid movement hurl them on Early’s rear. There is no doubt but that the enemy were completely surprised and outmanœuvred by Sheridan. While his different columns were being marched to the appointed place of rendezvous, a portion of our cavalry, under Generals Torbert and Averill, kept up a strong picket line along the Opequan, and by demonstrating in force at Burn’s ford, kept a large portion of the enemy at that part of the field, which was nearly twelve miles from the front, where it was intended that our infantry should operate and strike a blow which should result in the signal defeat of Early’s army.

The artillery was now brought up and posted in commanding positions to silence those batteries of the enemy which had caused so much annoyance, and our line reformed and again moved forward, regaining the advanced position which they had held when they were obliged to fall back. But this success was not gained without the most obstinate resistance of the enemy.

The delay in the arrival of the 19th corps enabled Early to move Gordon’s division at the double-quick from Bunker Hill, distant about ten miles, and bring it up in time to form in line of battle with Breckinridge’s, Karnseur’s and Rhodes’ commands, which had already arrived and were formed in a belt of woods skirting Berryville and Winchester. As soon as the 19th corps arrived it was formed in four lines of battle about 300 yards apart, on the right of the Sixth corps, and everything being in readiness, the advance was sounded at about 12 o’clock, and the different lines moved forward.

The Second corps advanced in splendid style and Justas composedly as though marching at a review or on parade, with drums beating and colors flying, presenting an imposing spectacle. The first line had not advanced more than 200 yards before it became warmly engaged with the enemy, who were posted in line about 600 yards distant. At the same time our artillery opened a furious cannonade, throwing shells and solid shot into the opposite wood where the enemy could be distinctly seen moving up reinforcements. . .

Having regained the advanced position which we had previously occupied, the different lines of battle were ordered to lie down ad await the arrival of Gen. Crook’s corps, which was held in reserve on the eastern side of the Opequan. They were ordered up to a position on the extreme right of our line in order to counteract a movement of the enemy, who was massing troops on their left flank with a view of turning our right.

Precisely at three o’clock, Gen. Crook formed on the right of the 19th corps . . . rode along the lines, and was received with vociferous cheering, the men promising to wipe out Winchester.

Our line extending nearly three miles in length, advanced amid cheers and yells, which could be distinctly heard far above the noise caused by the thunder of artillery and the continuous roar of musketry. Our men had determined to win the day and prepared themselves accordingly for the coming struggle. As our lines advanced closer and closer to those of the enemy, the battle became more and more desperate, and the fierce carnage will compare favorably with any similar contest of the war. The slaughter was now truly awful. At every discharge men could be seen dropping all around. The contending lines at some points could not have been more than 200 yards apart.

Just at this critical period, above the roar of artillery and other sounds of battle, was heard the cavalry bugle sounding the charge, which was the death-knell of Early’s army.

Dr. Breckinridge on an “Armistice.”—The venerable Dr. Breckinridge of Kentucky, from the start of the rebellion, has done incalculable good to the loyal cause by disseminating just sentiments, sometimes in the face of fiery opposition. The following clear and pungent exposure of copperhead fallacies is from a recent speech of his in Lexington:

“I cannot now go into a consideration of the platform in detail. But their great cry is an armistice and a convention of the states. What after that? They may not make peace, and then what is to be done? But, first, how is the convention to be called? It requires two-thirds of congress to vote for such a call, which call must be ratified by three-fourths of the states; and these votes you never get. What chance is there of getting three-fourths of the states to go for a convention for the purpose of bringing us under Jeff Davis, or for dividing the Union? The thing is absurd. If it cannot be done, what then? Then we are in favor of any other peaceable remedy. Dear, blessed souls! Any other peace remedy; nothing that is not peaceable. Now, for God’s sake, and for your country’s sake, look at it. Here we are, after between three and four years of war; after spending two or three thousand millions of dollars; after spilling the blood of a million of our brothers, and consigning five hundred thousand of them to their graves; after conquering an extent of territory 1500 miles in length by 600 in breadth; we have an army in every state of the confederacy, and the majority of them under our control; we have every stronghold taken from them except Mobile and Charleston and Richmond; and, notwithstanding all this, we are asked, as if we were a set of poltroons, to disgrace ourselves to the latest generation of mankind, to sacrifice everything we have fought for and that is worth living for, and make all the world say free government is worthless, that it cannot take care of itself. God Almighty in heaven grant that every man who utters such a thought may be choked until he becomes a penitent and better man. [Great applause.] “No, sir! No, sir! We will never do any such thing. We love peace–love it for its own sake. They love peace because they are afraid we will first whip the rebels and then punish them. They want peace that they may make new conspiracies, and the peace they propose is a disunion peace, which means separation of the states and endless ruin to the whole country. Ten thousand times better would it have been for us to have acquiesced at first, and never shed a drop of blood, than under these circumstances and at this time to make such a peace as that.”


Just the Difference.—Secretary Seward states the precise difference between the Chicago and Baltimore conventions when he says:

“The democrats at Chicago, after waiting six weeks to see whether this war for the Union is to succeed or fail, finally concluded that it would fail, and therefore went in for a nomination and platform to make the fact a sure thing by a cessation of hostilities and an abandonment of the contest. At Baltimore, on the contrary, we determined that there should be no such thing as failure, and therefore we went in to save the Union by battle to the last. Sherman and Farragut have knocked the bottom out of the Chicago nominations, and the elections in Vermont and Maine prove the Baltimore nominations staunch and sound. The issue is thus squarely made up–McClellan and disunion or Lincoln and union.”


How Horseshoes are Made by Machinery.

The Providence Press has an interesting account of the manufacture of horseshoes by machinery in that city:

Perhaps the manufacture of most interest, from its novelty and completeness, is that of horseshoes. In almost no branch of business has machinery made a greater change in the cost of production and in the perfection of workmanship than in this manufacture of horseshoes. The shoes turned out in this factory are as much superior to the old hand-made shoes as modern cotton fabric is to the product of the hand-loom. And so much has the introduction of machinery cheapened the process that machine-made shoes can be sold by the ton at about the same price as the raw material. The process of manufacture is not long, and notwithstanding the employment of some most ingenious machines, is not at all complicated. The iron, brought to the yard in pigs, is first puddled to extract all the impurities left by the melting process. This consists in placing the iron in a furnace where it is brought to a liquid state, and there repeatedly stirred and worked with a long iron ladle till most of the impurities have found their way to the top and have been removed. The mass is then allowed to cool, and during the cooling is worked by the ladle or broken into lumps, which are taken while yet red hot to the machines in which the puddling is completed.

These can be best understood by supposing an immense pair of shears, with one side stationary and the other working upon it–the blades of the shears being not of sharp steel, but of heavy, broad, flat masses of iron, so arranged that the lump of half molten iron, when brought from the puddling furnace and placed upon the platform formed by the lower half of those great shears, will be compressed repeatedly and with the greatest force by the upper half. The mass of iron is turned in every direction by the enormous pressure of the upper arm of the machine, till all the remaining dirt and other impurities are forced out, and the mass formed into a suitable shape to be rolled into bars. The pressure to which it is subjected is so great that, as the outer layer of the iron is gradually cooled and forms a hard crust, the crust is broken, and streams of molten metal poured through the cracks and down the sides of the cooling mass. These puddling and rolling processes are, to one unaccustomed to seeing the working of iron, the most interesting parts of the manufacture. The works are run through the entire night, and this is the best time to see these processes to advantage.

The huge buildings, with roof and rafters half lighted by the lurid glare of molten iron, the workmen with faces now in darkness and now flushed by the sudden and ghastly light of the opened furnaces, and the weird and varying light upon the neighboring trees and houses, present a scene of strange interest, which nightly attracts groups of gazers. The iron, after puddling, is again heated in a furnace, and taken to the rolling machine, where, by being passed through a succession of rollers, each smaller than the preceding, it is reduced to bars of the size suitable to be at once made into shoes. Besides the iron which is thus prepared for use in the establishment, great quantities, designed for the market, are puddled and rolled into bars of about the thickness of a man’s arm. ->

The iron prepared for the manufacture of horseshoes is next cut into lengths, and making the grooves and punching the nail holes is done upon the straight bars before they are made into horseshoe shape.

The punching machines, of which seven or eight are used, punch the holes in a shoe at two blows, and one machine, tended by a boy, is able to trim off by a single stroke of a knife, the rough edges left by the punches. The bars thus prepared are taken to the horseshow machine, of which there are six now in operation. In these they are placed upon an iron table, upon which is fixed a core, or die, projecting above above the surface of the table, and having its edge so made as exactly to fit the inner edge of the horseshow. An arm in the shape of a U is then driven forward and forces the bar to bend around the core into the exact shape of a shoe. A steam trip hammer then gives the shoe a number of heavy blows, between which a jet of water is driven by the machinery upon the shoe, and the forging is complete and the shoe ready to be packed and sent to market. These machines require the attention of only two or three men each, and the shoes are turned out at the rate of eight in a minute. It is intended to erect, as soon as possible, six additional horseshoe machines, and when this addition is completed, the works will be capable of turning out about twenty tons of shoes in a day. About half that amount is now made. This manufacture of horseshoes by machinery has grown up within a very few years. Seven or eight years ago, when the manufacture was first commenced, it was considered a doubtful experiment. It was hardly thought that shoes could be made by machinery capable of enduring as hard service as those made by hand. But the experiment has succeeded beyond the expectation of the original movers, and the establishment has grown in that time to its present enormous proportions, with a constant demand for its manufacture beyond its ability to fill.


From Grant’s Army.

Headquarters Army Potomac,
September 20.

News of the victory in the valley of the Shenandoah was read to the troops along the line this afternoon, and received with unbounded enthusiasm and repeated cheers. A salute of a hundred guns will be fired to-morrow at day light in honor of the event.

Deserters say the rebels are receiving rations of fresh beef from droves captured last week. They state that it was Hampton’s cavalry which accomplished the feat. They took 250 prisoners, 2,500 head of cattle, besides trains, horses, guns, &c. The rebel pickets offer to trade fresh beef for coffee and other articles; but on being asked what they would trade for Atlanta, they had nothing to say, and retired in evident disgust.

SEPTEMBER 23, 1864

Is There Any Poetry in Country Life?
[From the Country Gentleman.]

By poetry I mean the free play of those finer feelings that alone do honor to our common humanity–feelings entirely removed from the physical wants of meats, drinks and apparel–those finer sympathies that are attuned to harmony with nature.

To go out among our Jersey farm-houses, where the wrinkled, pinched face of the old hard cider drinker–and, by the by, I think there is no human face so stamped with meanness as that of an old hard cider drunkard, (for if there was originally any good, kind or generous feeling in his nature, this daily drink has soured and changed and destroyed it)–and our small farmers, in the spring of the year–go out there at midday, and you will find them house-sitters, their fences falling, the cattle leaning against the sunny side of the decaying building for warmth and support, the leaching from the manure yards and heaps, and if there are any, finding their shortest and easiest way to the roadside or nearest brook–and, by the by, I visited a farm this last autumn where near 100 head of cattle were wintered, and the yard sloping–actually sloping away from the barns to a large running brook, when at every heavy shower the greater part of the value of the manure could travel down-hill and off to the ocean–and this man a man of wealth, but he did not make it on, but off, his farm. The good wife, with a thin, pinched, care-worn, premature old look, over-worked and broken down at an age when an English woman is in her prime. They will tell you it is climate. I tell you it is not. It is caused mostly by our mode and manner of life–our discarding from our homes all that is lovely and attractive.

Go into the country, and where is the woman–with now and then an exception–where is one who will take you with a pride to see her farm pets–the children their lambs and pet calves, their hens and chickens, ducks and piggies? On the contrary, without exception, those I have visited have no such feelings, no such interest, no such sympathies–they speak and feel as though their life was one of labor, one of extreme hardship, and I am yet to find one proud of his calling, who feels and has an interest in all that pertains to farm surroundings beyond wanting a big white house, green blinds, and furnished, living ever in the back kitchen of the same. Those I have met have not seemed to me to have that outer love–if you will except a fiery flower patch–that so much endears some nature to the country.

But I will come back to the opening question–is there any poetry in country life? I hold that there is if we seek it and educate ourselves to it, though the bones ache and muscles stiffen at the hard labor ofttimes forced upon us by seasons, by crops, and by our want of necessary farm help.

That we are overworked–more mentally than physically–I do most honestly believe, and our anxiety to keep up appearances, to get gain and make wealth, or the opposite extreme, a disappointed or slovenly temperament. Few of us will be honest with ourselves and not envy the man living in the big house and driving his carriage.

Nowhere in much travelling have I seen more refinement of manner and mind than I found in an out of the way Jersey farm house of the old Dutch model, and red painted–many, many year since, and the whole exterior was of a primitive type; and inside, the old, many years used furniture, if you except a moderately new twelve-shilling Connecticut clock, all were indicative of age. They were wealthy for the country–had made themselves rich on this farm; but there was no effort at show, no effort to astonish their poor neighbors with new and fresh varnished furniture, but at table, the true test of refinement, a quiet ease and elegance, a certain dignity indicative of self-respect, marked the true born lady. Never have I been more disappointed–never more pleased; but even here there was wanting that love of farm life that I have ever noted, and I cannot attribute it to aught but over-work in farmers’ wives.

Many farm mothers and lovely women I have known, who would almost as soon bury, as to marry their daughters to farmers; and why? Their own lives had been one of such unremitting toil.->

But is there no poetry in country life? Yes. The lives of those who go there and seek it aright are full of it; but almost daily some serpent crawls into the household, in the form of some city, or would-be city fashionable. But yesterday, while on a visit to a friend, I met one of these fascinating creatures that poison the social atmosphere of all quiet homes, who also was visiting the same place. It was the home of those who had gone to its quiet for rest and happiness. “How can you live so far from the city? What, no cars in the afternoon and night, where you can go to the opera or lectures and return! I could not possibly endure it–indeed, I could not, I am so passionately fond of music; and then the city has so many advantages in lectures, and when you are sick, why you always have the best physicians.” It is such a woman who cannot have the care of housekeeping–must bound at the metropolitan or Fifth Avenue–must yearly go to the Springs for their stomach, and to the ocean for bathing for outer cleanliness–who breakfast in bed at ten, and sup at midnight, in search of social and mental advantages. And this evil is yearly increasing in fearful progression.

For one, I cannot breathe without distress the stifling, poisonous, vitiated air of a city hotel, and even the stench of its outer-door life is nauseous to me. Land you any morn from the fresh, dewy atmosphere of the country, from cars or steamer, in the city, and the concentrated “mille fleur” odor from garbage and water-closets is almost overpowering. Concentrate this with gas-burners, rising to the upper stories of a fashionable city hotel–add to it the poisonous breaths of hundreds of bipeds underneath–visitants of hospitals, Five Points, and other moral places–breathe this night after night–add to it irregularities of all kinds–dissipations in eating, drinking, thinking, and it brings on a class of nervous and physical ills that require the soda of springs to sweeten, and the iodine of ocean to purify; hence the yearly visits thereto. But the true lover of the country, who turns his back with pleasure from all such, loathing in his inmost nature the flesh-pots of Egypt, who breathes from dew-gemmed flowers the perfume of earliest dawn, thinking with the god like Webster, that a new creation unfolds with each earliest rays of eastern light–who plants that he may enjoy its fruits or watch its growth into yearly beautiful development, and daily marks with an increasing interest all the wonderful mysteries of germination, growth and maturity, the music of birds, the quiet sunset, and the rest of nature–all that is most attractive, most purifying, most elevating in our natures, finds fullest, completest development.–Old Hurricane.


“Stand by the Flag!”—A gallant officer in the regiment raised not a hundred miles away, who never quailed under the fire of rebel bullets, fell an easy victim to a pair of bright eyes, whose owner wore an apron bearing an emblem of our country’s flag, and who was waiting on the boys at a festival. The Colonel, wishing to make the acquaintance of the lady, remarked: “This is a pretty apron you wear, Miss.” “Yes,” said the maiden, “this is my flag.” “I have fought many a hard battle under that flag,” rejoined the Colonel. “Not under this flag, sir!” indignantly exclaimed the beauty, as she swept away, leaving the gallant son of Mass. perfectly dumbfounded.


Millions of fish in the Ohio Canal have been poisoned by the discharging of refuse from the extensive distilleries at Troy, and lodge along the banks in such numbers as to cause an intolerable stench, and threaten a pestilence. If the refuse of whiskey carries such death to animals, asks a paper of that region, what must the whiskey itself do?

SEPTEMBER 24, 1864


Thrilling Narrative!
A “Wild Train Dashes into Another Going Down a Mountain Side.

A correspondent of the Missouri Republican was a passenger on the train from Chattanooga to Nashville, which, on the 28th ult., met with what might have been a dreadful catastrophe. The road passes over the Cumberland Mountains. On the eastern slope the train is pushed up, but on the western slope the train slides down, its motion arrested by a close application of the brakes, and, if necessary, a reversal of the engine. About midnight on the day in question, the correspondent was asleep, but was startled suddenly into wakefulness by an unusual, extraordinary noise. On looking through the glass door at the end of the car, its origin was manifest: he beheld a sight which no mortal man, having once looked upon, could ever forget.

Two trains had started at the same time as the one in which he rode. It was about half way down the mountain, (the grade being very steep,) about two miles from the foot of the grade. The two trains in the rear were at the usual distance, “when suddenly,” exclaims the correspondent, “as if the brakes were out of order and would not work, the train behind us started forward with the rapidity of lightning, and came tearing furiously toward us. Our engineer put on all steam in the endeavor to escape; the engineer of the crazy train reversed his engine, but it was all in vain! The train was under too much headway! It was when it had reached to less than a hundred yards of us that I awoke and looked out. Like a destroying demon bent upon our annihilation seemed the terrible engine. Its wheels were running in a reverse direction, but under the fearful force it had previously acquired, it would no longer obey the motion of the wheels. It was sliding onward to destroy us, and at times, the wheels, fixed upon the track, and balanced between the two forces, one urging the locomotive forward, the other endeavoring to pull it back, tore from the rails a stream of fire. The the reversing force would whirl them round for a moment with the most awful rapidity.

I rushed toward the hind car with the design of leaping out. But by this time the monster behind us had nearly reached the end of the car. The next instant our train was struck, and bounded forward a few feet as if shot from a cannon, still, however, remaining upon the track. We were struck again, and this time our car, and I know not how many others, was thrown entirely from the rails. The fearful speed at which we had been going in our endeavor to escape the pursuing engine ensured our destruction. A mad rush onward of about twenty feet, a dreadful sound as we ripped up the rails and ties underneath us, then a lurch, hurling us with fearful violence from one side of the car to the other, and the huge box in which we were confined was rolling and tumbling down into a gorge of the Cumberland Mountains.

During the few seconds of the descent before the stroke, the whole dread reality of the situation stood like an awful picture before my eyes. I felt palpably that the next instant I should probably be a mass of quivering, shapeless flesh; yet, strange to say, I did not, as many are said to do under such circumstances, recall my past life, nor did I bestow a thought upon the future; all the faculties of my soul were concentrated in the awful present. The crash came; a bump and a roll, and all was still. There was no light in the car, and the absolute darkness into which we were plunged, the wailing and moaning of those who were hurt, the sickening smell of fresh human blood, the fearful uncertainty as to the fate of those on board whom you loved, the consciousness that the next instant you yourself might be crushed to atoms, all these things formed an awful combination of horrors.

There was another crash above us; again the car turned over, but that last turn of our car raised in my mind the  idea that the whole of the following train, with its locomotive, might come down and grind us to powder. Then came the burning, hoping, almost despairing desire to get outside the ruined car.->

Dashing through a glass door, I finally emerged from the car. Let me tell now what I saw. The accident had taken place upon an embankment. The two passenger cars of our train had rolled down about sixty feet, finally resting against the trees. The locomotive which had run into us had passed on with several of its cars, not leaving the track. Four of them had tumbled off on the other side of the embankment from us. One had rolled down upon our side, just ahead of our two passenger cars. Another was resting with its fore end upon the top of the car in which I rode, its wheels thrust into our car, and thus actually forming an immense bridge, under which a man could walk upright. For the space of thirty or forty feet, where the cars had run after leaving the rails, and before tumbling down the embankment, there was not a single tie or rail remaining, nothing but the rough stones which had formed the ballasting of the road.

When lights were procured, there were found two score bruised, cut, lacerated and stunned, but strange to say, not one person, as far as I could learn, was killed outright! So wonderful seemed our preservation that I think no one failed to attribute it to the gracious interposition of Almighty God, and return to Him, some perhaps for the first time in their lives, hearty, earnest, fervent thanks!”


The Soldiers for Little Mac.—The nomination of McClellan creates great enthusiasm among the soldiers. A vote was taken on board the steamer Commonwealth from New York for Boston last Thursday evening, by which 180 votes were given for McClellan and 43 for Lincoln. On the boat were forty soldiers, and every one of them  voted for Little Mac. An officer of the Army of the Potomac on board made the emphatic assertion that the army is for their old leader, and feel that they have a personal interest in the election; and that no interference or persuasions of officers will induce them to act contrary to their honest convictions.


There is no place for any northern man to stand, except on McClellan’s platform or on the platforms of the abolition disunionists of the North, or the rebellious secessionists of the South. Not a syllable of its language is dubious, ambiguous or double-faced. It is open, clear, ringing, and stands four square to all the winds of treason, blow they from the White House or from Richmond.


Another Straw.—On Saturday afternoon, as the 700 or 800 soldiers were marching from the camp to the steamer, while passing the corner of Wallace and St. John streets, three cheers were called for “Little Mac,” and were given with a will! Some one of them then called for “three for Lincoln”–but a few groans was the only response.


Negro Catchers of White Men.—At Elmira, New York, a squad of President Lincoln’s Negro soldiers are engaged in hunting up white boys who have been drafted. The Negroes carry a high head, as, with gun in hand, they drag white men from their families and march them off to camp, to fight for the freedom of Southern Negroes who don’t want to be free. All who like this picture can vote the Republican ticket.

1 orbis terrarum perturbation is Latin for “a disturbance of the world.”

2 While the phrase “torpedo boat” conjures up WWII-style images of American PT boats, British MTBs and German E-boats, the original 1864 version attacked with a spar torpedo or “bomb on a stick,” which had to be placed under the armor belt of the targeted enemy vessel and then detonated from a distance of only about fifteen feet. The efficacy of this approach would soon be demonstrated by Lt. W. B. Cushing’s attack upon CSS Albemarle the following month.

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