by John Beauchamp Jones
JUNE 19TH, SUNDAY.—Hazy and cool.
We have no details this morning of the fighting yesterday, and some doubt if a battle was fought. I presume assaults were made on our intrenchments in diverse places, and repulsed.
Beauregard’s battle, Friday night, is still in smoke, but it is rumored the enemy lost 9000 killed and wounded.
Firing is heard to-day. There may be good policy in keeping back accounts from the field, until it is all over and something decisive accomplished. We have not met with serious disaster at all events, else there would be consternation in the city, for bad news flies fast, and cannot be kept back.
There was fighting yesterday at Lynchburg,—no result known yet.
Every Sunday I see how shabby my clothes have become, as every one else, almost, has a good suit in reserve. During the week all are shabby, and hence it is not noticeable. The wonder is that we are not naked, after wearing the same garments three or four years. But we have been in houses, engaged in light employments. The rascals who make money by the war fare sumptuously, and “have their good things in this world.”
The weather is dry and dusty; the hazy atmosphere produced perhaps by the smoke of battle and the movements of mighty armies.
Eight P. M. The city is still in utter ignorance of the details and result of the battle yesterday—if there was one. If the government is in possession of information, it is, for some purpose, studiously kept from the public, and why, I cannot imagine, unless there has been a disaster, or Beauregard has done something not approved.
I do not think the people here appreciate the importance of the contest on the south side of the river. If Lee’s army were broken, I doubt whether it would even attempt to regain the fortifications of Richmond, for then it might share the fate of Pemberton’s army at Vicksburg. And the fall ofRichmond would involve the fall of the State, andVirginia would immediately become afree State.
