I suggested to the Provost Marshal several days ago that
there was an act of Congress requiring the destruction of tobacco,
whenever it might be in danger of falling into the hand's of the enemy. He ran
to Gen. Winder, and he to some one else, and then a hundred or more negroes,
and as many wagons, were “pressed” by the detectives. They are now gathering
the weed from all quarters, and piling it in “pressed” warehouses, mixed with “combustibles,”
ready for the conflagration.
And now the consuls from the different nations are claiming
that all bought on foreign account ought to be spared the torch. Mr. Myers, the
little old lawyer, has been employed to aid them. He told me to-day that none
ought to be burnt, that the Yankees having already the tobacco of Missouri,
Kentucky, and Maryland, if we burn ours it will redound to their benefit, as it
will enhance the price of that in their hands. That is a Benjamite argument. He
hastened away to see the Secretary of State, and returned, saying, in high glee
(supposing I concurred with him, of course), Mr. B. agreed with him. I told
him, very gravely, that it mattered not who agreed with him; so soon as the
enemy came to Richmond all the tobacco would be burned, as the retiring army
would attend to it; several high officers were so resolved. He looked
astounded, and departed.
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