by John Beauchamp Jones
MARCH 6TH.—My birthday—55. Bright and frosty; subsequently warm and pleasant. No news. But some indignation in the streets at the Adjutant-General’s (Cooper) order, removing the clerks and putting them in the army, just when they had, by their valor, saved the capital from flames and the throats of the President and his cabinet from the knifes of the enemy. If the order be executed, the heads of the government will receive and merit execration. It won’t be done.
