February 20, 1861.— Dear Brother—As a special messenger will leave here for Washington to-morrow I will ask him to carry some private letters, with his public ones, and let you know some little about Fort Pickens and the inhabitants thereof. I only wish it were not so much of a one-sided arrangement, as we need letters down here more than you fortunate people up North can. The papers come through sometimes, but letters never. It quite surprises me to see my name figuring so extensively in the newspapers. I have simply done my duty; but I suppose the doing it, under such a pressure of opposition, makes it appear creditable. The troops are leaving the opposite shore, disgusted at playing soldier, I suppose. They say there are only about three hundred remaining, and these are regulars, haying enlisted for one year. My messenger to the yard, this morning, said they were afraid we would attack them now. We could do so, and get possession again of everything in an hour, if we were only permitted to take such a course.

I have now mounted nearly all the guns—that is, all that are really necessary to enable this work to be defended by a force of five hundred men. We have worked like horses to accomplish this, but great tbings can be done by small means when one knows how. This small command has done more than Chase or Lomax could have done with their two thousand men, and they know it. Having seen our guns go up so rapidly, they swear we have bad reinforcements. In fact, the papers say, nothing else could be expected—that we nave smuggled in men from the vessels. It is true we could have done so, and they be none the wiser; but not a man has been added to this command from them. In fact, so particular are we, that not even an officer has come ashore, with the exception of Captain Vogdes, and he only once, when the vessels first came.