by John Beauchamp Jones

            SEPTEMBER 13TH.-A bright, cool morning.

            Dispatches from Lieut.-Gen. R. Taylor indicate that Federal troops are passing up the Mississippi River, and that the attack on Mobile has been delayed or abandoned.

            Gen. Lee writes urgently for more men, and asks the Secretary to direct an inquiry into alleged charges that the bureaus are getting able-bodied details that should be in the army. And he complains that rich young men are elected magistrates, etc., just to avoid service in the field.

            Gen. McClellan’s letter accepting the nomination pledges a restoration of the Union “at all hazards.” This casts a deeper gloom over our croakers.

            “Everybody” is now abusing the President for removing Gen. Johnston, and demand his restoration, etc.

            Our agent has returned, without wheat or flour. He says he has bought some wheat, and some molasses, and they will be on soon. I hope Gen. Grant will remain quiet, and not cut our only remaining railroad (south), until we get a month’s supply of provisions I hear of speculators getting everything they want, to oppress us with extortionate prices, while we can get nothing through on the railroads for our famishing families, even when we have an order of the government for transportation. The companies are bribed by speculators, while the government pays more moderate rates. And the quartermasters on the roads are bribed, and, although the Quartermaster-General is apprised of these corruptions, nothing is done to correct them.

            And Mr. Seward has promised, for President Lincoln, that slavery will not be disturbed in any State that returns to the Union; and McClellan pledges States rights, and all the constitutional guarantees, when the Union is re-established. A few more disasters, and many of our croakers would listen to these promises. The rich are looking for security, and their victims, the poor and oppressed, murmur at the Confederate States Government for its failure to protect them.

            In this hour of dullness, many are reflecting on the repose and abundance they enjoyed once in the Union. But there are more acts in this drama! And the bell may ring any moment for the curtain to rise again.

            Dr. Powell brought us some apples to-day, which were fried for dinner—a scanty repast.

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