As I had heard these old arguments, differently dished, in every conversation or debate since the first of January, I was much relieved by more troops getting on board at the next depot, and crowding father and Ben out of their talk.
We passed Weldon in the evening, through Petersburg in the night, and were in regular camp the next day. Then war began in earnest; our lines were formed in front of cannon instead of carriages; instead of a flower-wreathed target a man in blue stood in front of our guns, and our bayonets now were sometimes red when we unfixed them.
But do not fear, patient reader, that I am going to inflict a long series of war incidents upon you. You have heard and read all that I could tell a dozen times; and though no pen has yet arisen to blazon North Carolina’s deeds, I will only point to the battle record of the South, and resting her fame on the glorious valor of her sons, pass on, with only one chapter of letters, to the close of our struggle, when the banner we had borne through four years of shot and shell was furled, and the land we had bled for—conquered!
[CHAPTER XLI.]
Wilmington, N. C., Oct., 1862.
My Precious Husband—The little angel God promised us has come, and I am so happy. If you were only here, to see the little cherub nestling by me, I would be too full of bliss for utterance. To think it is yours and mine, darling! I feel sometimes that I must send it to you that you may see how beautiful and sweet it is. Mother says it is like me, but I see in it nothing but your image. I think it notices me some already, though it is only a week old, but I know there never was such an intelligent baby; the very first name it lisps shall be “papa,” and it shall say its little prayers each night for dear papa’s safety. I often weep over it, darling, as I think of the danger and hardship you are exposed to, and Oh! I do pray so fervently that no harm may befall you. We are making a fearful sacrifice for our country. God grant her independence may be won!
There is an old friend of yours here now—Frank, or rather Col. Paning, as he calls himself. He relates wonderful stories of his achievements in South Carolina, and wears his three stars very proudly. He is all devotion to Lulie, and report says they are to be married soon. Poor, infatuated girl, how I pity her!
We are getting on very pleasantly in our domestic affairs; the servants are all faithful and efficient, and Mr. Bemby reports excellent crops up at the plantation.