“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.”