All over the land lay the ruins of once happy homes.  As men gazed upon them, and thought of the past and the future, the apathy of despair crept over them; life seemed a burden too heavy to be borne; they longed to lay it down forever.  For a time, men who had faced death again and again while struggling for freedom, could not find courage to look upon the desolation of the land, or to face the dread future.  Closing their weary eyes, they slept until the clanking of chains awakened them.

Despotic power wrung the already bleeding, tortured heart of the South, until crying aloud, she held out to her sons her fettered hands.  And then, fully aroused, hearing the piteous cries, the rattle of chains, seeing the beloved face, full of woe, conscious of every bitter, burning tear (which as it fell, seemed to sear their own hearts), struggling to reach, to succor her, they found themselves bound and powerless to save.

Alas, dear friends, that the pathway which opened so brightly, which seemed to lead to heights of superlative glory, should have ended beside the grave of hope.  Oh, was it not hard to believe that “whatever is is right?” To kneel submissively in this valley of humiliation, and lift our streaming eyes to the heavens, that seemed of brass, to the Father who, it then appeared, had forgotten to be merciful.  The glory which even then was apparent to the outside world, could not penetrate the clouds which hung above us.

The land was yet red with blood that had been poured out in vain.  From once happy homes came wails of grief and despair.

Even the embers wore dead upon the hearths around which loved ones should never more gather.

And since hope is dead, and naught can avail to change the decrees of Fate, let me close this record of mingled glory and gloom, for hero must be written,—­

OMEGA.

CHAPTER VII.

CONFEDERATE WOMEN.

No historian can faithfully recount the story of the war and leave untouched the record made by Southern women.  Their patriotism was not the outcome of mere sentiment, but a pure steady flame which from the beginning of the war to the end burned brightly upon the altars of sacrifice, which they set up all over the land.  “The power behind the throne” never ceased to be felt.  Its spirit pervaded every breast of the living barricades which opposed the invaders, nerved every arm to battle for the right, inspired valorous deeds which dazzled the world.  From quiet homes far from the maddening strife, where faithful women toiled and spun, facing and grappling with difficulties, even dangers, never complained of, came bright, cheery letters, unshadowed by the clouds which often hung dense and dark over their daily pathway but glowing with unshaken faith, undaunted patriotism, lofty courage, and more than all pride in the exceptional bravery which they always took for granted.  Men must not fail to come up to the standard set up in simple faith by mothers, wives, daughters, and, as all the world knows, they did not.