“With some difficulty and not a little danger, our party was finally landed in dead of night on Virginia shores. My sister and I kept guard over the trunks while my brother scoured the vicinity in search of a conveyance to Stratford, a few miles distant from our point of landing, and the birthplace of our friend and kinsman, Gen. R. E. Lee.
“An old hay wagon, drawn by a very large ox and a very small mule (guided by ropes and goaded with a hickory pole) was finally secured, and in this striking conveyance we made our triumphal entry into the Confederate States.
“Up to this time I had worn on my person a flag bearing the Maryland coat of arms, and presented by Baltimore women to the Maryland troops in the Southern army. In addition to the discomfort of this unwonted article of apparel, I had suffered no small amount of anxiety lest the paint, which was quite fresh, should sustain some injury, therefore gladly shook its folds to the breeze the moment we were safe in Dixie.
THE BIRTH OF THE SONG IN DIXIE.
“My brother cut a pole, we raised the banner aloft, and, perched upon our trunks, jolted up and down hill to Stratford in the early dawn of that fair 4th of July, making the Virginia woods ring with ‘Maryland, my Maryland!’
“The story of our adventures soon reached home; the ‘aid and comfort’ given to the enemy were greatly magnified, and my family received notification from Washington that we should not be permitted to return.
“We were living in Virginia in exile, when, soon after Manassas, Gen. Beauregard, hearing of our work and sufferings for the Marylanders, who had already done such gallant service in his command, invited us to visit them at his headquarters, near Fairfax Courthouse. The fortifications there were in charge of my cousin, Capt. Sterrett, (U. S. N.,) who received and entertained our party during the visit.
THE BIRTH OF THE SONG IN THE ARMY.
“The night of our arrival we were serenaded by the band of the famous Washington Artillery of New Orleans and all the fine voices within reach. Capt. Sterrett expressed our thanks, and asked if there were any service we might render in return. ‘Let us hear a woman’s voice!’ was the cry which arose in response—and standing in a tent door, under cover of the darkness, my sister sang, ‘Maryland, my Maryland.’
“This was, I believe, the birth of the song in the army. The refrain was speedily caught up and tossed back to us from hundreds of rebel throats. As the last notes died away there surged forth from the gathering throng a wild shout: ‘We will break her chains! We will set her free! She shall be free! Three cheers and a tiger for Maryland!’ And they were given with a will.