Memories | Page 8

of every woman. These boys in gray were strangers to none. Their
uniform was a passport to every heart and every home. Broad Street
was thronged with them all day long.
Officers of all grades rode hither and thither, or congregated on the
steps of the hotels. Squads of soldiers promenaded, gayly chatting with
acquaintances whom they chanced to meet. Occasionally the sound of
drum and fife or the fuller music of a brass band would herald the
appearance of a company or regiment, perhaps just arrived from some
distant State, eager to reach the front. On more retired streets, at their
homes, humble or luxurious, sweet young girls welcomed with kindly
words and sunny smiles officers and private soldiers, extending equal
courtesy to both. The elegant mansions on Clay Street and elsewhere
were never without soldier guests. Impromptu meals were served
whenever needed. In elegant dining-rooms stately servants supplied the
wants of soldiers. No one asked who they were, whence they came.
They were Confederate soldiers--that was quite enough.
In the cool drawing-rooms pleasant chat beguiled the summer hours,
sweet songs floated out upon the air, or the more stirring notes of
"Dixie" or "The Bonnie Blue Flag," played with a spirit and vim which
electrified every listener.

If these warriors who lingered here could have chosen for themselves,
they would never have thus quietly rested upon the laurels won at
Manassas. Contrary to their wishes, they had been recalled from the
pursuit of the flying foe and consigned to temporary inactivity.
As the new companies or regiments came in they were marched into
camp in the suburds or temporarily provided for in the immense
tobacco warehouses which were numerous all over the city. Passing
one of these, at every window appeared laughing or discontented faces
of soldiers newly arrived, full of ardor, ready and expecting to perform
prodigies of valor, yet ignominiously shut up within four brick walls,
with a sentinel guarding every door.
The evening drills at the camp-grounds were attended by hundreds of
ladies. So enthusiastic were these, so full of pride and admiration for
the braves who had come to defend their homes and themselves, so
entirely in accord with the patriotic spirit which burned in every manly
heart, that not a soldier, no matter how humble, came near or passed
before a group of these animated beauties who was not literally bathed
in the radiance of kindly smiles,--transformed into a demigod by the
light of gloriously flashing eyes.
No pen can do justice to the scenes I would fain describe. Language is
quite inadequate to express the feeling which then lived and had its
being in the hearts of all Southern women towards the heroes who had
risen up to defend the liberties of the South. Exalted far above mere
sentiment, holding no element of vanity or selfishness,--idolatrous, if
you will, yet an idolatry which inspired the heart, nerved the hand, and
made any sacrifice possible. No purer patriotism ever found lodgment
in human breast. No more sacred fire was ever kindled by human hands
on any altar than the impulse which imperatively called men from the
peaceful avocations of life to repel the threatened invasion of their
homes and firesides. They were actuated by no spirit of hatred or
revenge (_then_). They sought not to despoil, to lay waste. But, when
justice was dethroned, her place usurped by the demon of hate and
prejudice, when the policy of coercion and invasion was fully
developed, with one heart and voice the South cried aloud, "_Stand!_

The ground's your own, my braves."
Swift as a meteor, yet clear and unwavering, flashed and burned the
beacon-light first kindled in South Carolina. A million torches lighted
at this flame were borne aloft throughout the Southland.
And now the invader had been met and foiled in his first attempt to
conquer and desolate the homes of Virginia. Who can wonder that their
brave defenders were the idols of a grateful people? Their valor, having
been fully tested, had far surpassed the expectations of the most
sanguine. "Hope told a flattering tale." Alas! too flattering, for the
confidence begotten by this first success inspired a contempt for the foe
quite undeserved.
Meanwhile, the summer sun still brightened the unharmed capitol. The
summer wind still bore aloft on the dome in Capitol Square the flag of
the new Confederacy, the "stars and bars." Here, after sunset and in the
moonlight, came young men and maidens, matrons and children. Old
men, too, who, baring their silvery heads to the cool breeze, gazed
upward at the bonnie flag, with a look half triumphant, half sad; for the
love of the "star-spangled banner" had grown with their growth and
strengthened with their strength, and it had been hard to tear it from
their hearts.
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