unusual had happened, and he never referred to his great victory, except
to deplore the loss of his brave officers and soldiers or the sufferings
of the sick and wounded. He repeatedly referred to the hardships so
bravely endured by the inhabitants of Fredericksburg, who had been
obliged to flee from the town, the women and children, the old and the
feeble, whose sufferings cut him to the heart. On Christmas Day he
writes to his youngest daughter, Mildred, who was at school in North
Carolina:

"...I cannot tell you how I long to see you when a little quiet occurs.
My thoughts revert to you, your sisters, and your mother; my heart
aches for our reunion. Your brothers I see occasionally. This morning
Fitzhugh rode by with his young aide-de-camp (Rob) at the head of
his brigade, on his way up the Rappahannock. You must study hard,
gain knowledge, and learn your duty to God and your neighbour: that
is the great object of life. I have no news, confined constantly to
camp, and my thoughts occupied with its necessities and duties. I am,
however, happy in the knowledge that General Burnside and army will
not eat their promised Christmas dinner in Richmond to-day."

On the next day he writes as follows to his daughter Agnes, who was
with her mother in Richmond:

"Camp Fredericksburg, December 26, 1862.

"My Precious Little Agnes: I have not heard of you for a long time.
I wish you were with me, for always solitary, I am sometimes weary,
and long for the reunion of my family once again. But I will not
speak of myself, but of you.... I have seen the ladies in this vicinity
only when flying from the enemy, and it caused me acute grief to