Mrs. Harris kept a select and fashionable boarding-house. There were many regular boarders and a stream of people coming and going all the time. She was a Southern sympathizer, and her house was a hotbed of sedition and intrigue for both sides. Among her guests were three Yankee officers, whom I made up my mind—or, rather, my mind needed no making up—to dislike. Uniform and all, I objected to them. The day after we came Mrs. Harris was chatting with us in mother’s room.
“I must introduce you to those Federal officers who are in the house,” she remarked.
“I beg you will not!” I replied indignantly. “I will have nothing to do with them.”
“Then you will make a grave mistake, my child. That course would betray you at once. You’ve put your head into the lion’s mouth, and prudence is the better policy until you get it out again. If you meet these officers and are civil to them they may be of assistance to you when you want to go back.”
Accordingly, when our household met as usual in the parlors that evening, Captain Hosmer, Assistant Adjutant-General William D. Whipple, of Schenck’s command, and Major Brooks—also, I think, of Schenck’s command—were presented to me.
Major Brooks had such a keen, satirical way of looking at me that I immediately took a violent prejudice against him, though I tried hard to conceal it. Schenck’s adjutant I did not like much better. Captain Hosmer was objectionable on general principles as a Yankee, but he was really a handsome fellow and a most charming gentleman, and though I had hard work overcoming my prejudices sufficiently to be quite civil at first, I ended by becoming warmly attached to him. My impulse was to avoid these gentlemen and to show my colors in a passive way. I say in a passive way, because anything approaching discourtesy Dan would have condemned. On duty, he would have shot a Yankee down quickly enough; off duty, he would never have failed in politeness to a gentleman in any uniform. As I could not well appear here as a Confederate officer’s wife, I was introduced to these gentlemen as Miss Duncan. The day after our arrival we mailed Captain Locke’s picture, which he had given us for the purpose, to his sister in Harrisburg, and called to see Mr. Holliway’s mother and sisters. They were charming women, and entertained us in true Baltimore fashion.
Indeed, I soon found myself in a whirl of gaiety. Mrs. Harris’s house was a merry one. Of course, being in Baltimore, its politics were mixed, as we have said, but as far as social position and culture were concerned, the guests were above reproach. The parlors in the evening reminded one of those of a fashionable pleasure resort.
Next door was another boarding-house. Mother’s windows overlooked the entrance, and we amused ourselves—according to boarding-house custom and privilege—by watching our own and our neighbors’ callers and guests, and by nicknaming them. There was one of the next-door boarders who entertained us greatly. We dubbed him “the Professor.” He had a funny way of wearing his green goggles as if they were about to fall off his nose. He had long, snaky curls which looked very greasy and glossy, and he walked with a slight stoop, using a gold-headed cane; and he always carried a book under his arm.
In our own house were two ladies who afforded us much amusement. They were sisters, as Captain Hosmer took occasion to inform me early in our acquaintance, but they were politically so opposed to each other that they did not speak.
Mrs. Bonds was a black Republican, Mrs. Lineman a red-hot rebel. This latter fact we discovered by degrees. Women did not gossip in those days—not to talk was a necessary evil—very evil and very necessary in a boarding-house of mixed politics in Baltimore during war times.