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From Fredericksburg.

[from our Own Reporter.]

On the Road, 6 A. M., June 6th, 1863.
And yet once more! I am getting tired of this intermittent refugeeing; once a month is rather too often. Exactly one month ago to-day I returned to Fredericksburg, and just got warm in my neat, when yesterday the pontoons appeared just opposite, below town — band playing "Home, Sweet Home," and making an impudent "feint" as we supposed. A few retired in good order to the hills to see across the river, when they might have gone up a steeple. Everything was unusually quiet except numerous speculations about the Yankees trying to fool us, until artillery waked up afternoon nappers about 5½ P. M. by the music of its roar. Some twenty pieces and two siege guns fired very rapidly for an hour and a half, (wounding about half a dozen of our soldiers,) until the pontoons were laid and numbers came over, estimated at from two regiments to 30,000. Being flanked we (I) fell back in the darkness some three miles.

This morning all is quiet, not much is to be seen and nothing to be heard at this writing.

P. S.--The skirmishers have begun and we can see the smoke of the guns. It is a fine day for a fight, but promises to be rather warm.

Hamilton's Crossing.
10½ A. M., June 7, 1863.
All quiet to-day except two siege guns from Bray's Hill thunders their welcome to a beautiful morning; no harm done by either. Not twenty guns were fired all day yesterday after the lively skirmishing on the right early in the morning. Some half dozen were badly wounded on our side. The Yankee skirmishers were driven back. They have about 4,000 men on this side the river on the bank drawn up in line of battle near the Bernard House. I hear they brought over six pieces of artillery last night to the same place. A force of about 5,000 appears in sight across and immediately on the river.

I made an inspection of our line yesterday all the way up and into Fredericksburg. Officers and men are well, ready, and in the right place. Fredericksburg is dull to deadness. Streets deserted — houses shut up. Occasionally a stray citizens crept alone along the sidewalk, making their emptiness more vivid. After spending a few hours I retired again to the hills, and came here this morning down the lines.

What the Yankees mean I can't say. Their delay must excuse the monotony of my last two days reports.

One officer or courier had his horse shot under him yesterday morning. I saw him riding fearlessly along the line in front of the Yankee skirmishers.

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Fredericksburg, Va. (Virginia, United States) (1)
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June 7th, 1863 AD (1)
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