by John Beauchamp Jones
JUNE 3D.—Raining gently, and cool.
As early as 4 A.M. there was an incessant roar of artillery, the vibrations of which could be felt in the houses. It could be heard distinctly in all parts of the city. And ever and anon could be distinguished great crashes of musketry, as if whole divisions of infantry were firing at the word of command. It continued until 11 o’clock A.M., when it ceased. A dispatch from Lee stated that his line (behind breastworks, center and left) had been repeatedly assaulted, and every time the enemy was repulsed. The attack, it was supposed, was made to check a flanking movement made yesterday afternoon, by Gen. Ewell, on the enemy’s left, to cut his communications with the White House, his base of supplies. No doubt the slaughter has been great!
The dispatch from Beauregard indicates that he may be still on the other side of the river. It may be a ruse de guerre, or it may be that the general’s enemies here (in the government) are risking everything to keep him from participation in the great battles.
Mr. Hunter, being short and fat, rolls about like a pumpkin. He is everywhere, seeking tidings from the field. It is said the enemy, at last, has visited his great estates in Essex County; but he’ll escape loss “by hook or by crook.” He has made enormously by his crops and his mills: nevertheless, he would sacrifice all for the Presidency—and independence.
The President, yesterday, forbade details from the Department Battalion to remain in the city.
The Southern Express Company has bribed the quartermasters, and is at its work again, using fine horses and stout details that should be in the army. Its wagon was at the department to-day with a box of bacon for Judge Campbell.
About 800 prisoners were marched into the city this afternoon, and it is believed many more are on the way.
Cannonading was heard again in a northeast direction this evening from 6 till 8½ o’clock, when it ceased—perhaps the prelude to another scene of carnage to-morrow!
