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From Camp Pickens.
[Special correspondence of the Dispatch.]

Camp Pickens, Manassas Junction, June 10th, 1861
This morning has opened upon us with great beauty and loveliness. The clouds which for several days have been lowering over our heads have disappeared, leaving the blue canopy undimmed by a single speck of darkness. The air is balmy and bracing, and everything around us wears the joyous, happy aspect of an early spring day. It is 12 o'clock; the morning drills are over; soldiers are stretching their lazy lengths on the straw floors of their tents, reading, smoking, sleeping; one is bending over a tub washing his clothing; another is strolling from tent to tent, anxious for something to kill time; another, bucket in hand, is strolling along to the spring; while a group are gathered about the door of the Captain's quarters, discussing with earnest tone and animated gesture last night's encounter with the officer of the day, who broke our delightful slumbers in testing our sentinels.

The arrival of a Lieutenant from the First Regiment has suddenly changed the tenor of the conversation, and the battle of Phillipi is the topic. Col. Spalding, who is on the ground, from that place, gives many items which have not found their way into our papers; but as they come to us through so many sources and as Col. S. has already furnished you with the particulars, we deem it needless to mention them.

We have it from reliable authority, that one of the sentry at Phillippi ordered a man, in company with a Justice of the Peace, to hait; his pass was handed to the guard, who, while reading it, was deliberately fired upon by the person giving him the pass. The ball grazed the head of the sentinel, who, as soon as he recovered from the windage, fired, and the wretch fell dead on the spot.

We would turn aside for a moment, to lift up our voice against the leniency with which the Tories of the present day are treated. Do them as did our forefathers in the times of the Revolution; let their carcasses dangle all along our roadsides, as warnings to those who at such times as these are recreant to every feeling of honor and patriotism. This and nothing else, will prevent us from being victimized by these ‘"wolves in sheep's clothing,"’who are continually prowling about our encampments.

We also learn that Mr. Thomas E. Sims is not dead. We state this as coming from one in whom we have entire confidence, and who was present at the engagement.

Reliable intelligence has just reached us of the capture of Dr. Thomas M. Fleming, of the Goochland Cavalry, and a Mr. Green, of the Governor's Guard, who were out in a scouting party, by the enemy. It is supposed that they were betrayed by friends of the Lincoln Administration. Another sad warning of excessive clemency and misplaced confidence.

The four companies of the First Regiment who were stationed at Fairfax Court-House, have not returned, though we have been expecting them for a week.

As there is no means of conveying packages from this place to the C. H. we would advise persons not to send perishable articles to members of these companies until their return.

I trust a short personal allusion will be pardoned in closing this hurried note.

Since my return to our encampment my health has very much improved, and I now have no fears whatever of my ability to stand the entire campaign.

The members of our company are taking excessively good care of me. providing every comfort, and even luxury, which heart could desire.

They have furnished me with a very comfortable parsonage, and a most kind-hearted and accommodating ‘"body guard"’ in the person of Mr. H. who seems to take a peculiar pleasure in ministering to the wants of the

Chaplain.

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