After breakfast I sat long upon the little gallery of the log cabin entertaining soldier visitors and enjoying the situation with all my heart.  I soon discovered, however, an air of sadness and restraint which was unaccountable until my husband told me of the death of the gallant Dreux, the first martyr of the war.  Ah! then I knew.  Struggle as they might, their brave hearts were wrung with anguish, for their gallant leader had succumbed to the only conqueror he ever knew.  The impassioned oratory that had never failed to fire the hearts of men was hushed forever.  The ardent patriotism ever prompting to deeds of daring was now only a memory.  The brilliant intellect and administrative ability so early recognized, so highly valued, were lost to the Confederacy.

I no longer wondered that manly brows were clouded, or that the eyes of soldiers moistened, as, even amidst pleasant conversation, a sudden remembrance of their loss overcame them.  For them the memory of that death-scene was fresh.  The echo of his last brave words had not yet died away:  “Steady, boys, steady,” as if he would have said, “Let not my fate appall; still do your duty.”

Before the sun was high the ambulance reappeared to convey our party as far as Williamsburg, where young Little was to remain until he could hear from his father; I and my boy were to go on to Richmond.  My husband was granted a furlough of two days that he might escort his family as far as Williamsburg.  As may be imagined, the ride was most delightful.  Although often oppressed by thoughts of the parting hour so rapidly approaching, we were at times charmed into forgetfulness, and keen enjoyment of the beautiful scenery and the incidents of the journey.  I now, for the first time, began to use 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.