LETTER FROM G. B. LAMAR.

G. B. LAMAR. -N. Y. Times, Aug. 12.

The citizens of Richmond, like those of Winchester, are exerting their utmost efforts in behalf of the wounded. A committee arranges for their distribution; they are carefully taken from the cars to the private dwellings; the first families in the State and city have opened their doors to all without discrimination, and their wives and daughters do the nursing, and all are vieing who shall accommodate them. This is noble, and will soon restore all that can be cured. I visited many, yesterday and to-day, of the devoted Georgians of the Seventh and Eighth regiments, and, with one exception, who cannot live, I envied them the honor of their wounds.

The battle was most bloody with them, and made much more so by the unfortunate mistake of three other regiments of our own firing into them.

Bartow bravely redeemed his pledge to make the name of his State illustrious. Foremost of all, he met dangers appalling to any one else, and finally fell, leading his brigade to the charge, having previously lost his horse, shot from under him, and received a spent ball in his thigh.

The enemy thought, up to 4 o'clock, they had the victory-and so they had; but the opportune arrival of two fresh regiments turned the battle, and gave us a glorious victory.

On our retreat previously, our wounded fell into their hands. They treated them kindly, lifting them into the shade, and leaving them with canteens full of water, and I am credibly informed that even then they told our men that they did not like to fight them; they had no cause, but were compelled to do it. Hence (I think it was) that they fled so readily when the reverses occurred.

My impressions are that, with proper legislation by Congress-cutting off all collusion between our enemies and Europe by letters of license to pass the blockade, by putting an embargo to endure as long as the blockade does; by repealing the tax on imports, and making every inlet from the Chesapeake to the Rio Grande a port of entry, so they cannot be effectually blockaded; and by levying a direct tax on everybody, on all property and upon all incomes to the amount of $25,000,000 to $30,000,000; and by the issue of Treasury notes receivable for taxesthe Government will have soldiery enough, money enough, and will soon have open ports and a free VOL. II.-POETRY 2

stant death by a Bible in his pocket, which broke the force of the ball.-Richmond Whig.

"TALL RUNNING."-The American, edited by a valiant parson, says there was some tall running from Bull Run. Lovejoy, the abolition member of Congress from Illinois, was the first to reach the White House, almost breathless from his rapid flight, and announced to the President the disaster to the Federal force. The American, a rabid Republican print, gives the following additional account of the distinguished Republicans who concluded that the better part of valor was discretion, and therefore showed their heels to the enemy:

It appears that other distinguished Indianians than State Agent Hudson "had the pleasure of participating" in the Bull Run affair. A bird from the scene of action informs us that foremost among the "participators" were Hon. Henry S. Lane, and John Peter Clever Shanks, whilom of Congress, but now of Gen. Fremont's staff. They had gone down to snuff the battle from afar, (we think the farther off the better for such soldiers,) and "had the pleasure of participating" at a distance, until the chase began. In no mood for being distanced, they promptly made tracks for the conveyance which had brought them out, only to find, when arriving where it ought to have been, that horses were a vain thing for safety in times of stampedes, when, as concerning umbrellas in a rain, the laws of meum and tuum are wholly suspended. Their conveyance had heard the news too, and was off.

How they managed to get a horse between them; how they stripped the harness off; how they arranged to ride bare-back alternately; and then how, by the aid of a musket, Shanks, whose turn it was just then be on foot, possessed himself of a mule-all this, and how they rode, Gilpin-like, into Washington, we would not tell for a dollar, but we respectfully refer the curious to the honorable gentlemen themselves, adding only that they made good time and arrived at Washington wiser, if not better men.-Ohio Statesman, Aug. 2.

TIME AT LAST MAKES ALL THINGS EVEN.-HOW just are the retributions of history! Virginia originated the heresy of State Rights run mad, which has culminated in Secession; behold her, ground between the upper and nether mill-stones. Missouri lighted the fires of civil war in Kansas; now they have burst out, with redoubled fury, upon her own soil. It was done in the name of slavery; but the reaction which logically followed has given more impetus to the Emancipation movement in Missouri than all the Abolitionists of Christendom could have done in twenty years. She sent forth her hordes to mob printing-presses, overawe the ballot-box, and sub

sas.

Our regiment, had they been the veterans that you read about in the life of Napoleon, might have held that hill, but it would have been held in a short time only by their dead bodies; such, at least, is my opinion, which may not be worth much to other people, or those who have been in battles before. At any rate, I don't think I shall alter it until experience teaches me that I am or was wrong. I have not re

OUR ZOUAVES AT BULL RUN.

[Extract from a private letter from a Fire Zouave, now a prisoner of war.]

RICHMOND, VA., Aug. 16, 1861. DEAR BROTHER: Your welcome letter of the 3d came to hand on the 13th, by way of Louisville and Nashville. As I had written before, I have waited a few days, and have nothing new to write about. Please send a copy of that portion of my last letter relating to my capture to the colonel of my regiment, and state also that Capt. Downey, and forty-three non-commissioned officers and privates, are prisoners with me. I was very glad to know that you learned of my situation as soon as you did. It had worried me considerably, as I know it did you all until you heard from me.

We hear all kinds of rumors here; some of them very extravagant: among others, that our regiment is disbanded, and that in the battle they broke, and ran at the first fire. To my own certain knowledge, they were broken and formed again three separate times, and held the hill and the battery (Sherman's, as the folks here call it, but in reality Capt. Rickett's) longer than any other regiment that attempted it. Five different regiments in succession were ordered to hold that hill, and every one of them was in turn driven back. This I know, for I never left the field during the entire fight. Sometimes we were driven clean over the fence, but never beyond it. Three times the battery was taken away from us; the second time we retook the guns and attempted to run them off by hand, (the horses being killed,) but were compelled to leave them. Shortly after that I met Col. Farnham, who ordered me to retire from the field, which I did with him, endeavoring to rally the men. When we had succeeded in getting about two hundred of them together in another field, the order to retreat was given. Then it was that I gave way entirely, from mortification and the revulsion from such intense excitement. I had also sprained my ancle in endeavoring to draw off the cannon, so that, what with pain and want of food and rest, I proceeded but a short distance and fainted. When I became sensible again, all was still; so I crept into the woods and lay down to sleep. I awoke about 3 o'clock in the morning, and made my way slowly back to Centreville, at which place I arrived about 7 o'clock. I found a number of wounded men there, with no one to attend them. I gave them all the assistance that I could in bandages, food, and drink, until late in the

some money? I will need very little here-enough to buy a cot to sleep on, a blanket, and some underclothes will last me through the winter very comfortably. My bed at present is a soft plank, which I am satisfied with when it is necessary; but if it can be bettered at small expense, I decidedly prefer that it should be. Such delicacies as milk, eggs, butter, &c., can be dispensed with, but when to be had by paying for them, I decidedly prefer to have them. Give my love to all, and let me know the news from Jay street, who is elected foreman in my place, and how they are getting along. Kiss the babies for me, and tell Kate I will write to her to-morrow.-N. Y. Tribune.

MR. JULIUS BING'S ADVENTURES.

WASHINGTON, Thursday, Aug. 1, 1861. Mr. JULIUS BING, a German by birth, a British subject by naturalization, and a litterateur by profes sion, arrived here to-night by the 6 o'clock Alexandria boat, from Manassas Junction, via Richmond and Fredericksburg. His story is so interesting that we give it with unusual fulness.

Mr. Bing went over to Bull Run on the morning of the battle in a carriage with Senator Foster of Connecticut, and Representative Ely of New York. In the mêlée of the retreat, he became separated from his companions, and was making his way through the woods when he came suddenly upon a party of rebel soldiers, who took him prisoner.

Luckily he soon encountered two old social acquaintances, Col. Lay, son-in-law of Judge Campbell, who was formerly one of Gen. Scott's aides, but is now colonel of an Alabama regiment, and in some position on Gen. Beauregard's staff, and Major McLean of Maryland.

They promised him an early presentation at headquarters, but he was taken to the Junction in a wagon with other prisoners, and spent the night in the rain with them under a leaky shed, Beauregard not being accessible before morning.

On Monday he was taken before Beauregard, whom he describes as a man on the best terms with the privates of his army, joking and talking with them quite as freely, at least, as with his officers, and enjoying little better accommodation than the common soldiers. At head-quarters he found a number of gentlemen and officers whom he knew personally, or by reputation. Among them were Senators Clingman, Chesnut, and Mason; Extra Billy Smith, Col. Miles, of South Carolina, and Col. Jordan, formerly of the War Department.

This last-named gentleman boasted that he had received, before the attack at Bull Run, a cipher despatch from some well-informed person within our lines, giving full details of our movements, including the particulars of the plan of battle, the time at which operations would commence, and the number of our troops.

Mr. Bing assured Gen. Beauregard that he was a

naturalized Englishman, and requested that the privileges of a neutral might be accorded him, and that no more such questions as had been put him by inferior officers, respecting Washington and the national army, might in future be asked, to which Beauregard courteously assented. On the same grounds, Mr. Bing requested to be released, and Senator Clingman, whose business it seemed to be to fawn upon Gen. Beauregard, assured him that he was a harmless writer, given to science.

At first an arrangement was made to take Mr. Bing as a passenger on an ammunition wagon to Centreville, but subsequently withdrew his permission on the plea that it would be dangerous, as there might be a great deal of skirmishing. Perhaps he had heard what an officer said, who casually remarked that some time since, and not long after a British subject left Richmond, the Federal War Department received the most correct intelligence it had ever had, touching the numbers and disposition of the Southern forces.

[Query.-How did the rebel officer know what the War Department received?]

The Vice-Consul gave him a letter to Capt. Lynch, in command of the rebel force at Acquia Creek, which secured his assistance. It was arranged that he should be sent with a flag of truce on board of one of our vessels off Acquia Creek; but just as he was starting off, a soldier swore that he had seen him on board a Federal ship, and denounced him as a spy. Whereupon he was sent back to Fredericksburg for examination. There he was in imminent danger from a fourth mob that gathered about him, some one having reported that he was a chaplain in our army.

Being released, after examination, he proceeded yesterday, some 20 miles, to the encampment of a Tennessee regiment, whose colonel gave him a letter to Mr. Evans of Evansport, a miserable little place on the Potomac.

Evans was instructed to put him across the river. Our cruisers were so constantly on the alert, that for some time no opportunity offered. But at length, while one of them was examining a transport, he slipped across to Chicamuxeon Creek, near Dorchester Post-office, Md.; thence he made his way here, via Alexandria, to-night.

Here three several mobs, inspired by three different causes, gathered about the traveller in succession. The first, learning that he had breakfasted with Beauregard, who had hospitably entertained him during his stay, took him for a friend of the general, and insisted upon a narrative of the battle.

at Richmond are so very limited and poor, that there is talk of distributing the prisoners among the States.

The officers at Manassas appeared to be very much pleased with the bearing of the prisoners, and spoke of them as brave and honorable men. The Hon. Alfred Ely is well treated, and may be released.

It is not believed that the threatened visit of Ben. Wood will help matters much for him, though it may for the rebels.

Col. Corcoran is in Richmond. His wound is a slight one, but he is in delicate health.

He hit upon a plan of escape, which proved successful. The conductor was to telegraph Beauregard, who was to send word to Richmond whether or not his signature, which was doubted, was genuine, and meantime the conductor was to be responsible. That worthy made significant gestures towards his prisoner with the revolver, which satisfied the crowd.

At Richmond the conductor gave him in hand to a policeman, who was convinced of his honesty by the recognition of an officer whom he had met at Manassas, and insisted upon letting him go. Mr. Bing refused at first, but finally was prevailed upon to consent, making an appointment for the evening, and promising to introduce his new friend to a Richmond lady of whose acquaintance he was desirous. The two somehow never met again.

Mr. Bing spent Friday, Saturday, and Sunday in Richmond. The British consul intrusted him with despatches to Lord Lyons, but could not get his pass countersigned by the Secretary of War, since to recognize him would be to recognize his Government. On Monday night Mr. Bing left Richmond by the train for Fredericksburg. The conductor was not satisfied with Beauregard's pass not countersigned, but the documents certifying that he was a bearer of British despatches, silenced his scruples. With a letter from the British Consul to the Vice-Consul at Fredericksburg, he reached the latter town unmolested.

An Episcopal chaplain of one of the Maine regiments, named Meirs, we believe, and related to Dr. Pine of this city, won the rebels' hearts by his coolness and courtesy, and probably will be released. His kindness to a little negro boy, whom he tied on his horse for safety, won the Southern heart.

From another trustworthy source we learn that Col. Cameron was shot by Col. Wade Hampton, of South Carolina. Hampton, in the early part of the engagement, had lost a nephew at the hands of the 69th, and swore revenge.

Taking the 79th to be the 69th, he took rifles successively from his men and aimed at officers only, and it is thought one fell at every shot. He fired twice at Col. Cameron, who was in full officer's dress, and at the second shot killed him. The rebel cavalry was instructed to pass by our men, but to shoot the officers.

The following information of the battle, the present strength and designs of the rebels, comes to us from an intelligent and trustworthy person, who has had recent opportunity of seeing and hearing whereof he affirms. Beauregard's force at Bull Run was 27,000, which was increased by 8,000 of Johnson's the day before, and by 5,000 more during the engagement. This statement is confirmed from an independent and trustworthy source. Davis did not assist on the field until late in the afternoon.

Manassas is a very strong position, quite as strong naturally as by art. It is a heath, somewhat like the

The whole number of troops in Virginia does not exceed 70,000. Only some 4,000 or 5,000 of these are at Richmond. Reinforcements reach there to the extent of several hundred daily. Two Mississippi regiments have arrived within the last ten days, made up of Southern gentlemen, disciplined, and splendid in equipment. Immediately about the city there are no important intrenchments. With a few guns in position there, and the masked batteries on all sides, the people feel secure.

There are several strong batteries at Acquia Creek, and the force there is rapidly increasing. Both at Manassas and Richmond the talk was that a strong force will be concentrated at some point or points on the Lower Potomac, and a descent made into Maryland. They boast that they already have a large number of boats collected at Acquia Creek and the White House for this purpose. This assertion is corroborated by information received at the Navy Department to-day. The rebels expect strong coöperation from their friends in Maryland.

It is understood that Beauregard clamors for permission to make an immédiate advance, to which Davis is strongly opposed.-N. Y. Tribune.

INCIDENTS OF THE RETREAT AFTER THE PANIC WAS

STOPPED.

WE were comforting ourselves with "an old oaken bucket which hung by a well " near the fence: the rather cross-looking Virginian occupant of the house eyeing us not quite amiably from his passive position on the door-step, when some of the straggling soldiers, who had eluded the Jerseymen probably by leaping the fences, began to show themselves. Many of them were sound in body, but apparently fagged out. Most of them were wholly unarmed; some in shirt-sleeves, and without coats or hats. Many were more or less wounded: one hit on the forehead, another in the neck, another in the leg, (none badly wounded could have limped so far on foot,) and a few were from the hospital, sick and hardly able to stand up. The first word of all of them was: "Water! Is there any water here?" They all said they had eaten nothing since yesterday, nor tasted a drop of liquid, save only the muddy water of puddles by the road-side; yet they had been all day long in the hardest of the fight. Doubtful this, perhaps, in some cases, but probably true of the Ellsworth Zouaves, of whom about a dozen were visible, all apparently worn out with work of the hardest kind. (No other New York men were seen by us during the night.) Their stories of charges in the "imminent deadly breach" of masked batteries, would have been less credible if they had not been individual, just from the field, and with no chance for mutual buncombe. "We've lost half our men," more than one of them said, perhaps honestly; but the sequel was "not so:" perhaps one hundred were left behind. "We've been badly cut up," said one from another quarter; "the New York 71st are half cut to pieces;" and so they talked, one after the other. Revived with a long tug at our nectar and ambrosia in the old bucket, which was vigorously rolled up and down on its iron chain, they

on toward Fairfax. One poor fellow, a slender youth of eighteen, too tender altogether for a working army, panted up to the well and seemed too weak to hold himself up. "I was sick in the hos pital," said he; "they fired into it and killed several there, and I had to run as well as I could." I omitted to take his name, poor fellow; it would be comfortable to know he reached home. So we pulled the bucket up and down, thankful that in this easy way we could give aid and comfort to these panting, thirsty, fagged defenders of their country's flag, and never doubting they had honestly done their best.

to

Meanwhile, an army-wagon had been standing since we first met the panic in the same spot before this house. I note this particular wagon, lettered "Co. H, 3d Regt., Me.," because it is noteworthy that it stood in line in one place all these two hours; and the driver said, in answer to my question, that he "should move on as soon as he had orders." As this is the regiment of Col. Howard, of West-Point, whom I (as one of those "reception committees") had learned to respect and admire in New York, Í talked with the teamster about the doings of the day and of the Colonel, who was reported killed. During the brief panic, he had, like his neighbors, thrown overboard all his cargo, except five bags of oats. So, on these bags we persuaded him to spread six of the wounded soldiers, to be jolted over the road, in the absence of ambulances, which at this place at least were invisible. When he finally started homeward, with the rest of the teams, about seven, or near sunset, the line having been ordered move on," there was still room for us in a corner; but soon other wounded soldiers were overtaken, and we boosted them into our places and took to our feet. During the few minutes we were in the wagon a new panic was raised. The stragglers in the road suddenly scampered over the fences to the woods, and the teamsters whipped their horses into a furious run for some five minutes, the dust flying so thickly that we could scarcely see each other. The first idea naturally pointed to the Black Horse Cavalry, who must be cutting us off! It was now nearly dark. The two muskets still left among our six wounded companions were quickly in rest for a shot at the enemy; but a moment more disclosed a couple of platoons ahead, stopping every thing on the road. These quickly proved to be a detachment of our Michigan 4th from Fairfax Court House, sent forward to head off all soundbodied fugitives and send them back to their regiments: hence the scamper over the fences. Only by this manœuvre could any soldiers pass the two reserves and reach the Potomac. On the road every man was stopped and turned back, excepting the wounded and the teamsters with their wagons. As to the civilians, they had long ago disappeared on the safe side; we saw but one beside ourselves after sunset, until we reached the pickets near the Court House, about nine o'clock r. M. Here again, returning soldiers were still stopped and turned back at this time, and as late, certainly, as ten o'clock, or six hours after the retreat began. Could a couple of platoons turn back a whole army? The wagons rolled slowly into the village, and for an hour, or more, I noticed the team of our friend of "Co. H, 3d Regt., Me.," being in its place in the line, still standing quietly opposite the Court House.

The contents of my friend's haversack had been

now.

"Thank you; we'll look about a little. Pray keep the room for us."

Among the groups of talkers about the door, we noticed a decisive and emphatic-looking gentleman who was addressed by another as Senator Wade. He was reviewing some of the day's incidents, and I afterward learned he had, with his friends, done excellent service in stopping part of the panic and stampede. Civilians were not all useless. The Senator seemed to be intending a return to Centreville next morning; and meanwhile proposed to his friends to rest comfortably in their carriage. This was about eleven o'clock; wagons still at rest; as many soldiers about the place as I had seen at noon, but here and there a poor fellow would come in from battle-ward inquiring for the hospital. Every thing warranted an off-hand verification of my first impression-that is, that the army had rested and would stay at Centreville, and the wagons and stragglers would stay here. Even this scarcely seemed worth asking: we didn't imagine any thing else.

About eleven o'clock our civil young host politely lighted us to a very good room, in which was a nice double-bed and a single cot.

"We shall leave early; we'll pay for the room now, if you please. How much?"

"Twenty-five cents each. But I may have to disturb you, gentlemen, to put some one in that other bed, for you see we are cramped for room.” "Certainly; we hardly expected a bed ourselves. We'll lock the door, but any one you send shall be admitted."

"Good-night, gentlemen." "Good-night, sir."

Much less courteous hosts are to be found in our own Yankee land. By the way, the urgent message of the father of the wounded soldier had finally produced the landlady, a tall, straight specimen of a

Virginia dame, lofty-capped, stately, and somewhat cross; and I couldn't blame her, under the circumstances. I hope she produced her best Oolong, if not her Gunpowder.

We undressed, and were soon comfortably stowed in the ample large bed, not omitting our thanks to God for our preservation, yet not very deeply impressed with a sense of escaping any peculiar danger. As we lay talking of the day's events, the expected knock came, and our young host introduced an officer in uniform to occupy the other bed. He proved to be a Pennsylvanian, who had been only a spectator in the conflict. He told us of the death of Col. Cameron, and of several incidents of the day. We talked to each other across the room for some twenty minutes, and then "tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," overtook us all. At any rate, when I rose at half-past one, both my companion and the officer were as "sound as a top." I had for an hour noticed confused talking of soldiers under our open window, and more arrivals seemed apparent; but the only order I heard was: "Second Wisconsin, fall in!"

"T-," said I, "I think you'd better wake up. It's a moonlight night, and walking will be more comfortable than in the day-time; beside, I want to reach Washington early, and we can catch the seven o'clock boat from Alexandria."

Rather reluctantly (for he was very tired) my friend got up: and we were comfortably dressed and in the road between two and three o'clock. Our room-mate from the Keystone State we left sound asleep, for we had no authority to disturb him. If "this meets his eye," will he send a word to say whether he woke up in Richmond?

The night was pleasantly cool; and clouds and road lighted up by a full moon. Road fair but sandy. The wagons were plodding on in continuous line; but that they were not much hurried or disordered, is evident from our soon overtaking our old friend of "Co. H, 3d Regt., Me." The road was about as sparingly sprinkled with stray soldiers as it was the other side of Fairfax, and in all we probably saw five hundred, not more, between the first panic in the road, and Alexandria. Many of these were lying in groups, asleep, by the roadside. Frequently, two would be together on a heavy wagon-horse without saddle; several, slightly disabled, had climbed into the wagons. Two poor fellows I noticed together on a tired horse, looking the very picture of exhaustion. The expression on the face of one of them I cannot forget: he looked sick, and his eyes rolled in a despairing manner. I tried to cheer him, saying he would soon be in Alexandria, well cared for. He could only answer by what seemed a thankful smile. T—and I tried to talk to as many different soldiers as we could reach, and to learn all they had to say. Their stories of the barbarities of the rebels to the wounded were too many and too varied to leave any doubt that "No quarter" was the watchword of at least a portion of the rebel army. I might repeat a dozen of these sad incidents, showing how disabled and wounded men were butchered; but the theme is sickening. For the sake of humanity, of common decency, let us hope that this barbarity was limited and local, and was condemned by the commanders. We since know, that after the battle they did take care of our wounded, and treat them well: let all justice be done.