From The Constitution, Wednesday, September 21, 1864 (volume 27, number 1395)
Passengers by the mail boat report that Friday a large body of rebel cavalry made a raid on our reserved cattle herd, opposite Harrison’s Landing, and succeeded in carrying off the entire number, about 2500 herd. The guard taking care of these cattle was the 13 Pa. cavalry about 200 men, and of course could not make much resistance against such a heavy body of the enemy. The attack was made just before daylight yesterday morning. Our men attempted to open the fence and stampede the cattle so as to get them near our troops, but they were shot at while making this effort. Capt. Richardson, commissary of subsistence had charge of the herd which was the main supply for the army in front of Richmond. He had scarcely time to save his papers, and it is said our men lost their entire effects. Our cavalry started in pursuit, and it was believed that before night the entire lot would be caught and the rebels taught a severe lesson.
During the past two days 15th and 16th, both sides have been engaged in a continuous struggle of sharp shooting and artillery firing, particularly in the centre of the line. Over twenty ambulances were seen to come towards the place this morning where the struggle occurred, and to go back loaded, evidencing that the rebels paid dearly for their bad faith. It was thought several nights ago that this annoying practice would cease in front of the second corps as an agreement had been made both sides to that effect, but it is reported that the same night, as our pickets were on duty, they were fired upon and several killed. The pickets said they would have revenge when they had an opportunity, and when the rebels had a large number exposed, blazed away with terrible effect. The enemy have been busy for several days constructing a second line of works a short distance behind the first, and making it as strong as the other.
Since the advent of McClellan’s letter of acceptance not a note of thanks has been expressed by the copperheads. Their only chance of success was that he would accept the platform with the nomination. The old war horses, convened at Chicago, had mixed the water and oil together and McClellan was to take the dose as prepared. But for some reason it was too much for the “Young Napoleon,” and his letter of acceptance can be viewed as embracing a platform of his own. The New York News, a thorough partizan copperhead sheet, declares that McClellan by his letter has declined the nomination at Chicago, and has placed himself before the public as an independent candidate. This want of harmony among the “unterrified” betokens either bad management, or a want of confidence among themselves. The resolutions which they claim express the views of the party have not a word of condemnation against rebels in arms, who have caused the sacrifice of thousands of lives and millions of treasure; to our soldiers who have bravely fought and suffered, no word of encouragement is offered; to the maimed and helpless, no protection is held out; to the widowed and fatherless not a word of sympathy, or a token of benevolence. All is reserved for their southern friends. How is it to be expected that a man who has attained notoriety by his connection with the army; who claims to have the good will of the soldiers; who refers with pride to his “past record,” which is wholly a military record—how can they consistently be brought together. If McClellan was true to his profession and to the principles which he utters in his letter, he would at once withdraw all connection with the party which assembled at Chicago, preferring to remain as a private citizen of the United States, than chosen its ruler thro’ fraud so brazen!
Mexico.—The Emperor of France is withdrawing his troops before Maximilian can well dispense with their aid. The communications between the capital and coast are threatened by Juarez, and the church is calling for the restoration of the property which had been confiscated. Maximilian finds his path a hard one.
There was considerable excitement in New London last week on account of the occurrence there of several cases of yellow fever, two or three of which have proved fatal. The disease was brought there by a vessel from Key West.
The Superior Court in session at New Haven has granted divorces for seven couples. Keep on and the divorces will out-number the marriages!
Gen. Cutler happily described the democratic platform when he said it had one end in Chicago and the other in Canada.
An intoxicated soldier, named Charles H. Mozier of the 18th Mass., was instantly killed, Monday, by jumping from the express train when it was at full speed, between Southport and Westport. His skull was broken and his body terribly mangled. It was said that he had made a bet that he could jump from the train while it was going at its highest speed.
Nathan Harrison of North Branford went to New Haven, Saturday. On returning, his hired man, George Wright, stole his ox team and drove off with it. It is supposed to have gone into beef.
There is a child in Seymour, says a Hartford paper, whose father, grandfather, great grandfather and great great grandfather are all living.
Eight fatal cases of diphtheria have recently occurred in East Killingly and vicinity, three in one family.
Rev. Mr. Van Meter’s Mission school in New York, opened two weeks ago, after the summer vacation, and 432 children have since been enrolled. On Friday he left to seek homes for several in New England.
Two or three weeks ago a man in Nashua, N. H., so poor that he was unable to pay the rent of a house and it being very warm weather, he and his family camped out in the open air. Last week he enlisted in the heavy artillery and was [able?] to purchase a farm in which to invest his $1200 bounty.
Gov. Johnson, of Tennessee, has obtained the requisite authority and is raising twenty thousand men for the purpose of clearing Tennessee of predatory rebel hands and guerillas.
On board the steamer Plymouth Rock, of the Stonington line, on Monday, the passengers were treated to a novel and interesting spectacle. No less than four couples were united in marriage in the main saloon.
The McClellan men are electing their candidates in the railroad cars, and as they report only the favorable results, they seem to be having it all their own way. The most unanimous for McClellan, lately reported, was that given by the bounty jumpers and deserters at the rendezvous in New Haven.—“Straws show which way the wind blows.”
The New York News says that the Peace Democracy are taking steps to call a national convention to nominate candidates for President and Vice President. The Ohio Statesman, the copperhead organ published at Columbus, announces the withdrawal of Vallandigham from the support of McClellan.
A large number of men, women and children collected on Saturday last in the woods down east of this city to hear the Moguls of a particular stripe on the affairs of the nation. It is supposed there were five thousand persons present. A large representation was there from the Union party from curiosity; and to know for themselves how far the democrats would disgrace the North in avowing the cause of the South in their open violence in marshalling with arms to destroy the best government in the world. This gathering went under the name of the “Copperhead Clam-bake.” C. C. Hubbard, Esq., of this city presided. Prof. Fowler, of Durham, was first on the speaker’s stand. He is a gentleman of pleasing address, of cultivated taste, and a scholar. It is to be regretted that he makes himself conspicuous by giving countenance to southern rebellion.
Mr. C. C. Burr followed Prof. Fowler. He is a disciple of Vallandigham. His talk was bold in defiance of conscription, provost marshals, &c., &c.
Mr. W. J. Hammersley, of Hartford, took the stand. He said what was equivalent to “them’s his [Burr’s] sentiments.” The report of the Courant gives him credit in his earnestness of “upsetting a stand turning the contents of a pitcher of ice water down the back of a rural apostle of peace.”
Mr. Alfred Hall of Portland, closed the speaking. His speech was short. It might here be remarked that the success of the federal arms knocks the copperhead logic into a cocked hat.
We give the following poetic effusion by a friend in this place:
The McClellan Clam Bake.
The feast of clams! the feast of clams!
xxxOn broken planks of peace was spread,
To speak against our guns and rams,
xxxThat soon will strike rebellion dead.
With words of wrath in this bright hour,
xxxThey made their fires and baked their clams,
And with a hissing, sickening power
xxxThey feasted on Chicago’s Rams.
They held a feast at this bright hour,
xxxTo stop the war in awful shame,
As victory beams on ship and tower,
xxxAnd crowns with pride our country’s name.
With traitor shouts they praise the rag,
xxxWhich basely hangs where traitors stand
And throw their clam shells at the flag,
xxxWhich floats to save our struggling land.
How vain their wrath; they might as soon
xxxWith clam shells stop the mighty stream
So near their camp of smoking doom,
xxxAnd banquet o’er their awful dream.
Who wants as chief, a man whose pen
xxxIs a white feather to our foe—
But plunging sword against the men,
xxxWhose loyal hearts no treason know.
Shame to this man who like the clam,
xxxThat creeping, slow, and striped shell,
Opens both ways—an awkward sham,
xxxBoth to the war and peace of hell.
O party weak with clam shell mouth,
xxxOn broken hinge in two sides split,
You curse the North and praise the South,
xxxBut down you’ll go into the pit.
Throw burning shells till treason yields,
xxxAnd freedom makes the land all one;
Throw lightning votes, with thunder peals,
xxxWhen grand November’s fight shall come.
A handsome Lincoln and Johnson flag was thrown to the breeze this morning, in front of the headquarters of the Union party.
From Washington.—We have received the following from a subscriber in Washington, D. C.:
We fired 100 guns here at the Navy Yard with a good will. We regret that they could not be armed and shotted at the rebel capital. But where are the McClellan men? They are scarce here, I tell you. I am coming home in November just to give my vote for Abraham Lincoln—the first vote I ever cast. H. M. B.
FOR LINCOLN AND JOHNSON.
A regular Meeting of the Middletown Club of the RED, WHITE AND BLUE, will be held at their room, EAGLE HALL, Thursday Evening, Sept. 22d, at 8 o’clock.
Every Union man is requested to be present,
Killed, in battle before Petersburgh, June 16th 1864, Eli Weston Parkman, Captain in Baker’s Cavalry, a member of the class of 1866.
The class adopted at a special meeting the following resolutions.
Whereas, we are called upon to mourn a fallen comrade who has attested by death his devotion to principle,
Resolved, That we honor the heroic patriotism that led our brother to a glorious death and remember with saddened affection the christian virtues, the noble qualities of heart and brain that gave bright promise of a successful life,
Resolved, That we rejoice in the assurance that his spirit passed form the turmoil of conflict to the endless repose of Heaven,
Resolved, That we sympathize sincerely with the relatives and friends of the departed,
Resolved, That in token of our sorrow we wear a badge of mourning for thirty days,
Resolved, That copies of these resolutions be transmitted to the family of the deceased, and for publication in the Constitution and the Zion’s Herald.
S. H. OLIN,
L. R. ABBOTT,
H. T. EDDY, Committee.
The Burlington Vt. Free Press says that nine tenths of the soldiers in that city voted the Union ticket at the recent election. As one of them, wounded in one of the recent battles, came limping up the steps of the Town Hall, a democratic ticket vender thrust the democratic state ticket into his hand. He took the vote, looked at it very deliberately, and then with a dry emphasis which added greatly to the effect of his words, said: “What a fool I should be to go down and fight rebels for three years with my musket, and then come here to stab myself in the back with a piece of paper like that! No,” throwing the vote for Redfield & Co. from him, and drawing his forefinger across his throat, with a slow, resolute action—“I’d cut my throat before I’d vote that ticket.”
The cranberry culture is voted a failure on Cape Cod, the crop being too uncertain to make cultivation profitable. Many who have laid out thousands of dollars on bogs, have abandoned them altogether, they yielding no return for the outlay. The crop this season has suffered severely from the “fire-fly” and the drouth, and hence the yield will be small.