“That is true,” said Judith. “The sky reddens all round, and one needs a room all windows.”
They went downstairs. As they approached the cool dining-room, with its portraits and silver and old blue china, a very sweet voice floated out. “He said, ‘Exactly, madam! You take your money to market in the market-basket, and you bring home what you buy in your pocketbook!’”
The next day and the next they spent in part at a hospital, in part breathlessly waiting with the waiting city for news, news, news!—news from Spottsylvania, where the great fighting was in progress; news from south of the river, where Butler, most hated of all foes, was entrenched, where there was fighting at Port Walthall; news, on the tenth, of Sheridan’s approach, of much burning and destroying, news that Stuart was countering Sheridan. “Oh, it is all right, then!” said many; but yet by day and by night there was tenseness of apprehension.
All the town was hot and breathless. The alarm bell rang, the dust whirled through the streets. The night of the tenth, Judith and Unity were wakened by a drum beating. A minute later a voice spoke outside their door. “Sheridan is within a few miles of Richmond. He is moving on us with eight thousand horse. Your cousin says you had better get up and dress.”
All of the household except the sleeping children gathered on the porch that overhung the pavement. It was two o’clock. The drum was still beating and now there came by soldiers. We’re going out the Brook Turnpike, said the drum. Out the Brook Turnpike. Meet them! We’re going to meet them! Three or four regiments passed. The drum turned a corner and the sound died, going northward. The streets were filled with people as though it were day. They went up and down quietly enough; without panic, but seized by a profound restlessness. Toward four o’clock a man came riding up the street on horseback, stopping every hundred yards or so to say in a loud, manly voice, “The President has heard from General Stuart. With Fitzhugh Lee and Hampton and Munford, General Stuart has taken position between us and a large cavalry force under Sheridan. There has been a fight at Ashland in which we were victors. General Stuart is now approaching Yellow Tavern. The President says, ‘Good people, go to bed, Richmond’s got a great shield before it!’”
The eleventh dawned. Richmond now heard the cannon again, from the north and from the south. Judith and Unity heard them from the hospital windows. There was a delirious soldier whom they had to hold in bed because he thought that it was his battery fighting against odds, and Pegram was calling him. “Yes, Major! I’m coming! Yes, Major! I’ve got the powder. I’m coming!” By ten o’clock ran through the excited ward the tidings that they were fighting, fighting in Spottsylvania, “Fighting like hell.” The sound of cannon came from the south side. “Butler over there—New Orleans Butler! ——! —— ——! When’s Beauregard coming?”
“General Beauregard has come. He is at Petersburg.”
“Miss What’s-your-name, why don’t you warm your hands? That ain’t any way to touch poor sick soldiers with them icicles like that!—O Lord, O Lord! Why’d I ever come here?”
“Them cannon’s getting louder all the time. Louder’n’, louder’n’, louder—”
“Shoo! They can’t cross the river. Where’s Jeb Stuart? What’s he doing?”