I doubt not you have heard before this of the furious cannonade with which the enemy opened the year. They began about 3 in the afternoon of new year's day, and continued, with very little intermission, for 9 hours. Every thing that could carry a gun, from a frigate to a boat, played against us. Under the cover of their cannon, they set fire to the town in four different places, and made serveral attempts to land field pieces, but were repulsed with loss. The horrow of the night exceeds description, and gives fresh occasion to lament the consequencs of civil war. The thunder of artillery, the crash of falling houses, the roar of devouring flames, added to the piteous moans and piercing shrieks, of the few remaining wretched, ruined inhabitants, form the outlines of a picture too distressing to behold without a tear. I pray God I may never see the like again. We had 2 or 3 men wounded, none mortally; it is said several of the enemy were killed. The large distillery down the river was set on fire the night of the cannonade, and [Andrew] Sprowle's houses two or three nights after. In short, desolation and ruin have overspread the face of the country, and the once populous town of Norfolk now resembles, in minature the ruins of Palmyra! ² We have met with no loss since our arrival in this place, excepting 5 men made prisoners by the enemy, nor have we had a wounded man, except 3 or 4 of a detached party, in a small skirmish the night of our arrival; besides these, we have had none hurt before or since the cannonade. I know not how long we shall stay here; at present, every thing appears in the greatest confusion.