Disaffection Stalks Around Us.

When I Shall Again Write To You, Or Where I Shall Be Tomorrow, I Cannot Tell.

At This Late Hour A Wagon Has Been Procured, And I Have Had It Filled With Plate And The Most Valuable Portable Articles, Belonging To The House.

I Am Accordingly Ready; I Have Pressed As Many Cabinet Papers Into Trunks As To Fill One Carriage; Our Private Property Must Be Sacrificed, As It Is Impossible To Procure Wagons For Its Transportation.

It Is One Of My Sources Of Happiness Never To Desire A Knowledge Of Other People's Business.

And Now, Dear Sister, I Must Leave This House Or The Retreating Army Will Make Me A Prisoner In It By Filling Up The Road I Am Directed To Take.