BUNG STATION, KENTUCKY, February 4, 1862.

On the night of the 2d inst., our entire force, consisting of 25,000 men
and thirty-two field pieces, under command of Major-General Simmons B.
Flood, crossed by a ford to the north side of Little Buttermilk River at
a point three miles above Distilleryville and moved obliquely down and
away from the stream, to strike the Covington turnpike at Jayhawk; the
object being, as you know, to capture Covington, destroy Cincinnati and
occupy the Ohio Valley. For some months there had been in our front only
a small brigade of undisciplined troops, apparently without a commander,
who were useful to us, for by not disturbing them we could create an
impression of our weakness. But the movement on Jayhawk having isolated
them, I was about to detach an Alabama regiment to bring them in, my
division being the leading one, when an earth-shaking rumble was felt
and heard, and suddenly the head-of-column was struck by one of the
terrible tornadoes for which this region is famous, and utterly
annihilated. The tornado, I believe, passed along the entire length of
the road back to the ford, dispersing or destroying our entire army; but
of this I cannot be sure, for I was lifted from the earth insensible and
blown back to the south side of the river. Continuous firing all night
on the north side and the reports of such of our men as have recrossed
at the ford convince me that the Yankee brigade has exterminated the
disabled survivors. Our loss has been uncommonly heavy. Of my own
division of 15,000 infantry, the casualties--killed, wounded, captured,
and missing--are 14,994. Of General Dolliver Billow's division, 11,200
strong, I can find but two officers and a nigger cook. Of the artillery,
800 men, none has reported on this side of the river. General Flood is
dead. I have assumed command of the expeditionary force, but owing to
the heavy losses have deemed it advisable to contract my line of