MARCH 20th.—The snow is eight inches deep this morning, and it is still falling fast.
Not a beggar is yet to be seen in this city of 100,000 inhabitants!
Hood’s division, mostly Texans, whose march to the Rappahannock was countermanded when it was ascertained that the enemy had been beaten back across the river, were all the morning defiling through Main Street, in high spirits, and merrily snow-balling each other. And these men slept last night out in the snow without tents! Can such soldiers be vanquished?
Yesterday Floyd’s division of State troops were turned over to the Confederacy—only about 200!
We have no further particulars of the fight on the Rappahannock; we know, however, that the enemy were beaten, and that this snow-storm must prevent further operations for many days. Several Eastern Shore families, I learn, are about to return to their homes. This is no place for women and children, who have homes elsewhere. We are all on quarter-rations of meat, and but few can afford to buy clothing at the present prices.