Memories | Page 2

upon the troubled face of its
mother to close them forever.
The guns of Sumter, reverberating throughout the North, "stirred a
fever in the blood of age" and youth alike. Fanatics raved more wildly
than ever, while those who had hitherto been lukewarm hastened to
swell the cry of horror and fury which everywhere arose at this "insult
to our flag." This feeling found vent in acts of oppression, met by
prompt and determined resistance, and thus was inaugurated the
fratricidal strife which was for four years to desolate the land.
Rumors of an engagement in Virginia intensified my suspense until it
seemed unbearable. One day I received a kindly warning from an old
friend concerning a small Confederate flag which had been sent to me
by my husband. It was a tiny silken affair, which I kept in my
prayer-book. This harmless possession was magnified by the people of
the town into an immense rebel banner, which would eventually float
over my mother's house. I had still a few friends whose temperate

counsel had hitherto protected me. The note referred to warned me that
while I retained possession of the flag I might at any time expect the
presence of a mob. I would not have destroyed my treasure for worlds,
and how to conceal it became a subject of constant thought. The
discovery one day of a jar of "perpetual paste" in mother's secretary
suggested an idea which was at once carried out. Applying this strongly
adhesive mixture to one side of the flag, I pasted it upon the naked
flesh just over my heart. One morning the mail brought certain news of
a Confederate victory at Big Bethel. This so exasperated the people that
on their way from the post-office an excited crowd halted under my
window, crying out, "Where's that rebel woman?" "Let's have that
flag," "Show your colors," etc. Carried away by intense excitement, I
threw open the blinds, and, waving the newspaper above my head,
shouted, "Hurrah! Hurrah for Big Bethel! Hurrah for the brave rebels!"
A perfect howl of rage arose from below, and greater evil might have
befallen but for the timely appearance of the venerable village doctor,
who now rode hastily in among the excited men, and, standing up in his
buggy, cried out, "Friends, she is but a frail, defenceless woman. Be
thankful if your morning's work be not her death." Slowly and sullenly
the crowd dispersed, while the good doctor hastily ascended to my
chamber. I lay with fevered cheeks and burning eyes among the pillows
where my mother had placed me. The terrible excitement under which I
labored forbade all blame or any allusion to my act of imprudence. I
was soothed and tenderly cared for until, under the influence of a
sedative, I fell asleep.
Early next morning the doctor appeared at my bedside. Meantime a
change had come over me. I seemed to have lost the nervous
excitability of a girl and to have become a woman, full of courage and
hope. Dr. ---- regarded me steadily for a moment; then,--"Ah! better
this morning? That's my brave girl." Meeting his gaze fully, I replied, "I
shall try henceforth to be brave, as befits the wife of a soldier." A frown
appeared upon the doctor's brow. Tenderly placing his hand upon my
head, he said, "My child, I fear your courage will soon be put to the test.
Your own imprudence has greatly incensed the town people. Danger
menaces you, and through you, your mother. Fortunately, the friends of
your childhood still desire to protect you; but your only safety lies in
giving up the rebel flag which it is said you possess. Give it to me,

Fannie, and I will destroy it before their eyes, and thus avert the
threatened danger." I only smiled, as I replied: "Dr. ----, since the rebel
flag has existed, I have cherished it in my heart of hearts. You may
search the house over; you will find no flag but the one I have here,"
placing my hand on my heart. The good man had known me from
childhood, and he could not doubt me. He questioned no further, but
took his leave, promising to use his influence with the incensed
villagers. They, however, were not so easily convinced. They had been
wrought up to a state of frenzied patriotism, and declared they would
search the house where the obnoxious flag was supposed to be. Dire
threats of vengeance were heard on every side. At last a committee was
appointed to wait upon "_the traitress_" and again demand the
surrender of the flag. It was composed of gentlemen who, though
thorough and uncompromising "Union men," were yet well known to
me, and were anxious, if possible, to shield me. They were admitted