“On Saturday, April 14th, the End came!”
XXXVIII
THE FOURTEENTH OF APRIL, 1861, IN RICHMOND
We had planned to leave Richmond for home on Tuesday afternoon. At noon on Saturday, my husband asked me if I would not like to prolong my stay with my relatives, adding significantly:
“We do not know how long it may be before you can get South again. There is thunder in the air.”
I looked up from the letter I was writing to Newark:
“Thunder—alone—is harmless. I take no stock in gasconade that is only thunder. And if trouble is coming, it is clear that our place is not here.”
The letter-writing went on not uncheerfully. Far down in my soul was the belief that a peaceful issue must be in store for the land beloved of the Lord. Were we not brethren? When brought, face to face, with the fact that brothers’ hands must be dipped in brothers’ blood, reaction was inevitable.
So foolish was I, and ignorant of the excesses to which sectional fury can carry individuals and nations.