Memories | Page 7

from my little store of
gold and silver, and it proved the "open sesame" to much enjoyment.
Watermelons and other fruit, roasting ears, buttermilk, etc., were

purchased without stint, also a chicken. At noon the little party camped
in a grove by the roadside, where my soldier-husband proudly showed
off his new attainments in the way of cooking. The dinner was
pronounced "just splendid" by the appreciative guests. Our boy having
gorged himself, fell asleep upon the grass; the negro driver was sent off
to buy a few dainties to send back to friends in camp, and the two so
lately reunited--so soon to part--enjoyed for the first time an
uninterrupted talk relating to the adventures that each had met with
since our parting in New Orleans. I unfolded my plans for the future,
receiving the full permission and sympathy of my husband.
Soon after the journey was resumed two horsemen appeared on the
road coming from the direction of Williamsburg. I was quite
unprepared to recognize a Confederate officer of high rank in either of
the riders who now approached, as neither were very handsomely
uniformed.
The one who most attracted my attention appeared of middle age, was
rather stout, of florid complexion, and (as I thought) looked very cross.
He wore a sort of fancy jacket or roundabout, profusely trimmed with
gold lace.
"There is General Magruder!" exclaimed my husband, and, as the
officers came near, saluted. Bringing the ambulance to a halt with an
imperious gesture, the general sharply questioned him as to his absence
from camp, his name, command, destination, length of time he
expected to be absent, etc. I was then introduced, and began to express
my pleasure at the meeting, etc. The grim visage of the general did not
relax. My pleasant talk was cut short by another question, this time, of
importance. I then found myself subjected to a series of questions so
searching that all I had seen or heard while passing through the enemy's
lines was imparted to General Magruder before I quite realized the
situation.
What woman, denied the pleasure of talking, would not have felt and
expressed, as did my discomfited self, great indignation in view of a
deprivation so severe. But upon being reminded of the heavy
responsibility resting upon the mind and heart of the patriot who could
not withdraw his attention from the great and all-absorbing interests
committed to his guidance long enough to think of, much less to
practise, the amenities of life, I felt ashamed of my hasty anger, and

remembered only that I had been permitted to see and converse with
the hero of the battle of Bethel, the first Confederate victory of the war.
At Williamsburg, under the roof of the queer, old-fashioned, but
comfortable inn, excellent accommodations were found, and here the
soldier partook heartily of the "square meals" which he knew were his
last for many a day.
A few hours of happiness was all that could be accorded to us. A battle
seemed imminent. My husband must return to his post. I, with my little
boy, proceeded to Richmond, where unbounded kindness and
hospitality awaited me.
Here began the realization of the dream which had haunted me while
yet compelled to linger among the foes of the South. Joining at once the
noble army of women who untiringly ministered to the sick and
wounded, I entered upon the performance of a vow to devote myself to
this work if only the opportunity were accorded me.

MEMORIES.

PART I.

CHAPTER I.
ALPHA.
_Richmond in 1861-62._
Who that witnessed and shared the wild excitement which, upon the
days immediately following the victory at Manassas, throbbed and
pulsated throughout the crowded capital of the Southern Confederacy
can ever forget?
Men were beside themselves with joy and pride,--drunk with glory.
By night the city blazed with illuminations, even the most humble
home setting up its beacon-light,--a sure guide to where loyal, devoted

hearts were throbbing with patriotism.
In the general rejoicing the heavy price of victory was for a time
unheeded. But Richmond had sent forth to battle her best beloved, and,
alas! many were the "unreturning braves."
The dazzling light fell upon many dwellings only to reveal the utter
darkness that reigned without and within. No need to ask why. All
knew that in each darkened home stricken hearts filled with an agony
of desolation struggled in vain to remember that they were mothers and
wives of heroes, but could not yet lift their eyes from the ghastly
wounds--the bloody graves of their dead.
Ah! the lovely, joyous, hopeful, patriotic days of that summer of 1861.
The Confederate gray was then a thing of beauty,--the outer garb of
true and loyal souls. Every man who wore it became ennobled in the
eyes