artillery was making among our troops, called up a division of reserves, and overwhelmed us with a terrific rain of musketry. His masses pressed forward, step by step, nearer and nearer, until at length some companies of ours threw their arms away and fled. McClellan availed himself of this panic, and ordered a flank movement of his cavalry. Quick as thought Anderson placed himself at the head of our horse, and led three regiments to the charge. Their onset was magnificent. Our Texans burst with ringing huzzas into the ranks of the foe, who, without even giving us time to try our sabres, turned to the right-about; but here, too, the hostile field-pieces prevented further success, and we had to draw back from before that crushing fire.

The enemy, noticing our confusion, now advanced with the cry, "Onward to Richmond!" Yes, along the whole hostile front rang the shout, "Onward to Richmond!" Many old soldiers who had served in distant Missouri and on the plains of Arkansas wept in the bitterness of their souls like children. Of what avail had it been to us that our best blood had flowed for six long days?—of what avail all our unceasing and exhaustless endurance? Every thing, every thing seemed lost, and a general depression came over all our hearts. Batteries dashed past in headlong flight; ammunition, hospital, and supply wagons rushed along, and swept the troops away with them from the battle-field. In vain the most frantic exertion, entreaty, and self-sacrifice of the staff-officers. The troops had lost their foothold, and all was over with the Southern Confederacy.

In this moment of desperation Gen. Hill came up with a few regiments he had managed to rally; but the enemy was continually pressing nearer and nearer, louder and louder their shouts, and the watchword, "On to Richmond!" could be heard. Cavalry officers sprang from their saddles, and rushed into the ranks of the infantry regiments, now deprived of their proper officers. Gen. Hill seized the standard of the 4th North Carolina regiment-which he had formerly commanded-and shouted to the soldiers: "If you will not follow me, I will perish alone!" Upon this a number of officers dashed forward to cover their beloved general with their bodies, the soldiers hastily rallied, and the cry, "Lead on, Hill, head your old North Carolina boys!" rose over the field. And now Hill

charged forward with this mass he had thus worked up to the wildest enthusiasm. The enemy halted when they saw these columns, in flight a moment before, now advancing to the attack, and Hill burst upon his late pursuers like a famished lion. A fearful hand-to-hand conflict now ensued, for there was no time to load and fire. The ferocity with which this combat was waged was incredible. It was useless to beg the exasperated men for quarter; there was no moderation, no pity, no compassion in that bloody work of bayonet and knife. The son sank dying at his father's feet; the father forgot that he had a child-a dying child; the brother did not see that a brother was expiring a few paces from him; the friend heard not the last groans of a friend; all natural ties were dissolved; only one feeling, one thirst panted in every bosom-revenge. Here it was that the son of Major Peyton, but fifteen years of age, called to his father for help. A ball had shattered both his legs. "When we have beaten the enemy, then I will help you," answered Peyton; "I have here other sons to lead to glory. Forward!" But the column had advanced only a few paces further when the major himself fell to the earth a corpse. Prodigies of valor were here performed on both sides. History will ask in vain for braver soldiers than those who here fought and fell. But of the demoniac fury of both parties one at a distance can form no idea. Even the wounded, despairing of succor, collecting their last energies of life, plunged their knives into the bosoms of foemen who lay near them still breathing.

The success of Gen. Hill enabled other generals to once more lead their disorganized troops back to the fight, and the contest was renewed along the whole line, and kept up until deep into the night; for every thing depended upon our keeping the enemy at bay, counting, too, upon their exhaustion at last, until fresh troops could arrive to reinforce us. At length, about half-past ten in the evening, the divisions of Magruder, Wise, and Holmes came up and deployed to the front of our army. Had the commanders of these divisions executed their orders with promptitude and skill, streams of blood would have been spared, and the foe would have been thrown back upon his reserves in the course of the forenoon; but they reached us fully seventeen hours behind time. The generals had been

uncertain concerning the marching orders, their columns crossed each other and became entangled, and precious time was irremediably lost. Still, as it was, the remainder of our force had to thank the final arrival of these divisions for their rescue. So soon as these reinforcements could be thrown to the front, our regiments were drawn back, and as far as possible reorganized during the night, the needful officers appointed, and after the distribution of provisions, which had also fortunately arrived, measures were adopted for the gathering up of the wounded and the burial of the dead.

On Tuesday, July first, at two o'clock in the morning, while the stars were still visible in the sky, Gen. Magruder again opened the battle, and very soon began a cannonade so fearful that the very earth trembled with the concussion. By twelve o'clock meridian McClellan had abandoned all his positions, leaving behind his wounded, his baggage, and many pieces of cannon. Magruder followed him, hot foot, but cautiously, as he had first to sweep the surrounding woods with artillery and sharpshooters.

About half-past four P. M. our troops reached the vicinity of the well-known farm of D. Carter, known as Malvern Hill. Here Gen. McClellan had again drawn up his army to re-open the fight. Gen. Magruder no sooner saw the enemy's position than he once more led his men to the attack. His columns advanced in magnificent order over the space that separated them from the foe, and stormed the intrenched position. But a murderous hail of grape received the brave fellows and mowed them down, until finally the fragments of these splendid divisions were compelled to seek the shelter of the woods. Again Generals Smith, Anderson, and Holmes led on their troops, but suddenly missiles of monstrous dimensions tore down whole ranks of our soldiers and caused the most appalling damage.

This was the fire of the fleet, which, although two and a half miles distant, now took part in the contest. Our men still rushed forward with desperate courage against the hostile position, and Malvern Hill was attacked on all sides. McClellan defended himself courageously, and it was twelve o'clock at night ere he evacuated this position, which both nature and art

"had made a strong one. The heroic daring and energy of our troops had overcome all obstacles.

The battle of the seventh day will live forever in the memory of the people as the battle of Malvern Hill. Nowhere, in all the actions fought around Richmond, was the contest confined within so small a space-and there was added to it the fire of the monster guns on board the enemy's ships. It was terrible to see those two hundred and sixty-eight-pound shell crashing through the woods; and when one exploded, it was as though the globe had burst. Never, in any war since the world began, were missiles of such magnitude before used. The battle of Malvern Hill will be a monument for that people, testifying to the determined will and resolution with which it contended for its independence as a nation, and the indomitable firmness of its vow to conquer or to die.

I must award to Gen. McClellan my fullest recognition. There are few, if any, generals in the Union army who can rival him. Left in the most desperate straits by his companion in arms, McDowell; victimized by the Secretary of War, Stanton, at Washington; offered up as a sacrifice to destiny by political jealousy; cut off from his basis of retreat-he selected a new line of safety, of which no one had even dreamed. He defended every foot of ground with courage and talent, and his last stand at Malvern Hill, as well as his system of defence and his strategic combinations, displayed high military ability. Yet his troops were too greatly demoralized by their seven days' fighting, and lost their stamina, while several of his generals could not comprehend the ideas of their commander, and sustained him but poorly, or not at all. At Harrison's Landing, where the James river forms a curve, he collected his shattered array under the guns of the Federal fleet. But, on our side, we had no longer an army to molest him.

II.

THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG AND THE CAMPAIGN IN PENNSYLVANIA.

Diary of an English Officer in the Confederate Army.)

June 20 (Saturday).-Armed with letters of introduction. from the Secretary-at-war for Generals Lee and Longstreet, I left Richmond at 6 A. M., to join the Virginian army. I was accompanied by a sergeant of the Signal Corps, sent by my kind friend Major Norris, for the purpose of assisting me in getting on.

We took the train as far as Culpepper, and arrived there at 5.30 P. M., after having changed cars at Gordonsville, near which place I observed an enormous pile of excellent rifles rotting in the open air. These had been captured at Chancellorsville; but the Confederates have already such a superabundant stock of rifles that apparently they can afford to let them spoil. The weather was quite cool after the rain of last night. The country through which we passed had been in the enemy's hands last year, and was evacuated by them after the battles before Richmond; but at that time it was not their custom to burn, destroy, and devastate-every thing looked green and beautiful, and did not in the least give one the idea of a hot country.

In his late daring raid, the Federal General Stoneman crossed this railroad, and destroyed a small portion of it, burned a few buildings, and penetrated to within three miles of Richmond; but he and his men were in such a hurry that they had not time to do much serious harm.

Culpepper was, until five days ago, the headquarters of Generals Lee and Longstreet; but since Ewell's recapture of Winchester, the whole army had advanced with rapidity, and it was my object to catch it up as quickly as possible.

On arriving at Culpepper, my sergeant handed me over to another myrmidon of Major Norris, with orders from that officer to supply me with a horse, and take me himself to join Mr.