their presence may do much for the spiritual good of the army.
Brave Richard Ashby
is dead; how I grieve for his family and for his country, for we cannot afford to lose such men!
July 4, 1861.
This day General Scott
promised himself and his Northern friends to dine in Richmond
Poor old renegade, I trust he has eaten his last dinner in Richmond
, the place of his marriage, the birthplace of his children, the home of his early friendships, and so near the place of his nativity and early years.
How can he wish to enter Richmond
but as a friend?
But it is enough for us to know that he is disappointed in his amiable and patriotic
So may it be.
I have seen W. H., who has just returned from Fairfax
Last week he scouted near our house, and gives no very encouraging report for us. Our hills are being fortified, and Alexandria
and the neighbourhood have become one vast barracks.
The large trees are being felled, and even houses are falling by order of the invader!
Our prospect of getting home becomes more and more dim; my heart sinks within me, and hope is almost gone: What shall we do, if the war continues until next winter, without a certain resting-place?
Our friends are kind and hospitable, open-hearted and generous to a wonderful degree.
In this house we are made to feel not only welcome, but that our society gives them heartfelt pleasure.
Other friends, too, are most kind in giving invitations “for the war” --“as long as we find it agreeable to stay,” etc.; but while this is very gratifying and delightful, yet we must get some place, however small and humble, to call home.
Our friends here amuse themselves at my fears; but should the war continue, I do not think