"The cradle and the grave!" Alas, yes! There was no triumph on the evening of that day. Half the gallant company was gone. There was wailing within the city gates that night. "The hand of the reaper" had taken "the ears that were hoary," and the daughters wept for the good, gray head gone forward to the "eternal camping ground" after a long life of peace. For these gallant gentlemen the white rose which shaded my door yielded all its pure blossoms. Well was it for the sake of my own devotion that this was an ever blooming rose! I had watered and nourished it with care, unconscious of its high vocation, to bud and blossom and lie on the noble heart of more than one soldier. My own husband was in the fight, and sent the first news of the repulse of the enemy and the safety of his boyhood's home.
Immediately after the battle on the line, June 9, we observed unusual activity in our streets. Great army wagons passed continually, pausing often at a well before my door to water their horses. Clouds of dust filled the city. Evidently something unusual was going on. "We are only re-enforcing our defences," we said, and comforted ourselves in the thought.
One day my father came in unexpectedly. The army corps to which he was attached had camped near Petersburg!
"I've just met General Lee in the street," he said.
I uttered an exclamation of alarm. "Oh, is he going to fight here?"
"My dear," said my father, sternly, "you surprise me! The safest place for you is in the rear of General Lee's army, and that happens to be just where you are! The lines are established just here, and filled with Lee's veterans."
This was startling news, but more was to follow. One Sunday afternoon,—the next, I think,—the Presbyterian minister had gathered his flock of women and children for service in the church opposite my home, and had just uttered the first sentence of his opening prayer, "Almighty Father, we are assembled to worship Thee in the presence of our enemies," when an awful, serpentlike hiss filled the church, and a shell burst through the wall.
In a moment the church was empty, and Dr. Miller, the pastor, was telling me that his congregation had dismissed itself without a benediction!
"And the shell?" I inquired.
"It lies upon the table in the church," said the doctor; "nobody dares remove it."