by John Beauchamp Jones
JUNE 6TH.—Clear and hot, but with a fine breeze—southwest.
All is quiet around the city. Saturday night the enemy again penetrated Gen. Breckinridge’s line, and again were repulsed by the Floridians. Some of his regiments (as Mr. Mallory, Secretary of the Navy, who stopped in front of my house yesterday, told me) did not behave well.
Yesterday, I learn, both sides buried the dead, with the exception of some Federals piled up in front of Lee’s breastworks. A deserter says Grant intends to stink Lee out of his position, if nothing else will suffice. What a war, and for what? The Presidency (United States), perhaps!
I learn that the Departmental Battalion, near Bottom’s Bridge, has been moved back a mile, out of range of the enemy’s shells and sharpshooters.
We have met with a defeat in the Valley, near Staunton, which place has probably fallen. A letter from Gen. Bragg, this morning, in reply to Mr. Secretary Seddon’s inquiries, says it is too true, and he indorses copies of dispatches from Gen. Vaughn and Col. Lee to Gen. R. E. Lee, who sent them to the President, and the President to Gen. B., who sends them now to the Secretary. Gen. V. calls loudly for reinforcements to save Staunton, and says Gen. W. E. Jones, who commanded, was killed. Col. Lee says, “We have been pretty badly whipped.” Gen. Bragg knows of no reinforcements that can be sent, and says Gen. R. E. Lee has command there as well as here, and was never interfered with. Gen. B. says he had tendered Gen. Lee his services, but they had not been accepted.
Small heads of early York cabbage sold in market to-day at $3, or $5 for two. At that rate, I got about $10 worth out of my garden. Mine are excellent, and so far abundant, as well as the lettuce, which we have every day. My snap beans and beets will soon come on. The little garden is a little treasure.
