November 1st.—Again stagnation; not the smallest intention of moving; General Scott’s resignation, of which I was aware long ago, is publicly known, and he is about to go to Europe, and end his days probably in France. McClellan takes his place, minus the large salary. Riding back from camp, where I had some trouble with a drunken soldier, my horse came down in a dark hole, and threw me heavily, so that my hat was crushed in on my head, and my right thumb sprained, but I managed to get up and ride home; for the brute had fallen right on his own head, cut a piece out of his forehead between the eyes, and was stunned too much to run away. I found letters waiting from Mr. Seward and others, thanking me for the game, if canvas-backs come under the title.
