occupation of Caroline County, burned and destroyed private property in their wonted barbarous style; but strange to say, although my uncle's neighbours were subjected to every sort of cruelty and indignity, yet he was treated with comparative clemenсу for the scoundrels contented themselves with carrying off some of his horses and oxen and with shooting those they could not take away; but they did not insult Aunt Virginia or my cousin Anna Munford, who were staying at the Reed's when Burnside's corps camped in its vicinity. Soldiers were constantly lounging into the house, but except upon the larder and the store-room, which they most effectually cleared out, they did not commit any other depredations.

Some of the negroes were induced to leave the farm, but the majority preferred remaining. Nicholas tells me that notwithstanding the presence of the enemy, they were perfectly civil and subordinate. All labour however is stopped by order of the Federals, who threaten to shoot the darkies if they do any work in the fields. Nicholas was stopping at the old homestead when the army of Grant marched through the county, and in order to avoid capture he had to conceal himself in the woods in the daytime. At night he had to creep cautiously into the house. The negroes offered him all the assistance in their power, and when asked whether he was on the place or lurking in the neighborhood, they pretended not to know what had become of him, notwithstanding the most awful threats if they were caught hiding the truth. My cousin finding this state of things unbearable, started, after taking leave of the inmates of the Reeds', for Richmond-a most hazardous undertaking. From the moment of his departure to the time he reached the fortifications of the city, five days and nights elapsed. During the journey he was frequently shot at by the Yankees, who took him for a bushwhacker. At one time they actually got within one hundred yards of him, and then blazed away-but happily without hurting him. His privations, poor fellow, were very great,

for he had only a scanty supply of bread with which to quiet the cravings of hunger; but like the immense majority of Southern people he bore these hardships cheerfully, and having got his discharge he prosecuted his studies in medicine, and now he occupies a position as surgeon in one of the hospitals appropriated to the Yankee wounded. Every one is in good health, I am glad to hear, at the Reed's.

Aunt Virginia, notwithstanding the propinquity of the Yankees, was doing very well. Your brother John is in Montgomery. Having succeeded in selling his Virginia farm he has bought a pleasant little place in that pleasant town, and is now engaged in superintending the cotton purchased by the government. The berth is said to be a good one. His eldest son occupies the post of quartermaster in a brigade of Longstreet's corps. He has the reputation of being a very efficient officer. His brother Lygon, who has no vocation for the military profession, is employed in the treasury department. My uncle Lygon has not left his plantation since the war broke out; the reports concerning him are satisfactory. Your sister Anna's sons, whom you expressed so much solicitude about, have both been providentially saved. The eldest one was taken prisoner at Fort Donelson, but after a few months' imprisonment he got his exchange and re-entered the army, I think in the capacity of an adjutant. Frank Randolph is now a Major in the cavalry, having distinguished himself on various occasions.

Ever since the beginning of the war he has been in the thickest of the fights. He received his last promotion after a brilliant cavalry charge. I expect that if his career is not cut short he will shortly be appointed to a colonelcy, for he is regarded as one of the most promising officers in the service.

So far the tidings I have communicated are not so bad for these sanguinary times.

We have of late been amused at the jubilant tone of the Northern press, which tries to make out that all Grant's movements hitherto have been great successes, where Lee has foiled him everywhere. It is clear that the disastrous repulses he has met within the Wilderness and Spottsylvania have compelled him to modify his programme, which was to march straight through the Confederate lines down to the city; instead of which his progress has been of a sidelong nature, and attended with the most awful carnage of the war.

His present point of attack might have been reached almost without firing a gun, and yet after butting his head unsuccessfully against the Confederate positions a number of times, and after losing seventy thousand men in the attempt to carry them, he claims a series of victories. Reports come in frequently that the Yankees are very much disheartened by the frightful slaughter in their ranks. It is even said that Grant has no little trouble in bringing them up to the scratch; but we will be able to estimate their demoralization in the next battle.

There is no sign of anything of the sort in the Confederate army-that I can vouch for; I have visited the different corps and have come to the conclusion that Lee cannot be whipped, for never have his troops been in better heart and spirits. They are roughly clad, it is true, but their clothing is better than it ever was and they have never been as well-shod since the war commenced. There are provisions in the army in this city which can be made to last seven months. The soldiers now, compared to that which they have had to endure hitherto, are bountifully supplied; they get full rations, have coffee and sugar, luxuries which up to the present time they had not often indulged in.

Some of the brigades are so abundantly provided for that they have frequently given their rations to the poor of the city, amongst whom there is really a great deal of suffering owing to the exorbi

tant prices of food, caused by the proximity of Grant's army, and also by the cutting up of the railroads; but it is hoped that this pressure is only temporary.

I wish that some of the faint-hearted soi-disant Confederates, who no doubt think that the South is at its last gasp, could be transplanted here at the stroke of a magic wand. They would then see sights which indicate anything but fear or despondency.

There is no noise or agitation in the streets. The citizens pursue their daily avocations without evincing any signs of terror. The ladies in the evening sit on the doorsteps of their houses and there chat cheerfully, whilst their fingers are busily engaged in knitting or sewing for the soldiers. Were not the stillness of this doomed city broken at intervals by the distant booming of cannon, you would really little suspect that twenty millions of Yankees had concentrated all their fiendish ingenuity on its destruction. Although not hardened to these emotions like inhabitants, I have been infected by contagion of their serene confidence, and now if at all solicitous it is more about affairs in Georgia than about the fate of Richmond.

I have written to Mr. Hodgson and to Mr. Cowper, but I fear owing to the irregularity of postal communication that I shall not for a long time get answers from them. Nothing has been received from you, or from the dear folks at home, since I have landed in rebeldom.

With love to you all I fondly embrace you.
Your devoted son,

My dear Mother:

RICHMOND, JUNE 26TH, 1864.

More than three weeks have elapsed since I first set foot on the shores of Dixie, and yet, notwithstanding the most diligent enquiries

I have not heard of the arrival of a missive from you or any of my beloved correspondents. I don't, however, give myself up to despair, and I am buoyed up with the hope that when they do come they will come "not as single spies, but in battalions". I ought not, however, to be surprised at this long interval in our correspondence, for to the risks and uncertainties of the blockade must be superadded the dislocation of postal communication caused to Richmond by the enemy.

The Yankees have taken a leaf out of Morgan's and poor Stewart's book, and are now displaying more dash than we gave them credit for, in the shape of raid-making. They prowl about the vicinity, tear up the railroad tracks, cut telegraph wires, to the intense disgust of the post-office officials; so you see than even after arriving in the Confederacy letters are a very long time in reaching their destination. As an instance of this postal irregularity; I wrote to Mr. Cowper and to Mr. Hodgson immediately after landing, and yet I have not received any answer from either of those gentlemen. The only thing to be done is to peg away in the hope that out of a mass of missives one may perchance be received. This is what I am doing, but alas so far with little success.

Sheridan and his vile gang of plunderers, after a succession of discomfitures have at length been whipped out of the Peninsula, where they have perpetrated the most fiendish atrocities, and now, after a sound drubbing administered to them by Hampton, they are cowering demoralized and panic-stricken, under the protection of their gunboats. When Nicholas C-ran the gauntlet of the Federal pickets, as I related in my last letter to Father, Caroline County was occupied by Grant's army, and the poor old family homestead was hemmed in on all sides by the Federals, who pillaged and destroyed all the private residences within their reach.

Up to the time of his departure they had not molested any of the inmates of the Reed's or stolen anything from the interior of