January 15th.—Clear and frosty. Guns heard down the river.
Dispatches came last night for ammunition—to Wilmington, I believe. We have nothing yet decisive from Fort Fisher, but I fear it will fall.
Mr. Hunter was in the Secretary’s office this morning before the Secretary came. I could give him no news from Wilmington. He is much distressed; but if the enemy prevails, I have no doubt he will stipulate saving terms for Virginia. He cannot contemplate the ruin of his fortune; political ruin is quite as much as he can bear. Always at the elbow of the Secretary, he will have timely notice of any fatal disaster. He is too fat to run, too heavy to swim, and therefore must provide some other means of escape.
Last night and early this morning the Jews and others were busy, with hand-carts and wheelbarrows, removing barrels of flour from the center to the outskirts of the city, fearful of impressment. They need not fear.
I have enough flour, meal, and beans (black) to subsist my family two weeks. After that, I look to the kind Providence which has hitherto always fed us.
It is now rumored that Mr. Blair came to negotiate terms for the capitulation of Richmond, and that none were listened to. Better that, if it must fall, than be given up to pillage and the flames. If burning our cities had been the order in 1862, it might have been well; it is too late now!
