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Correspondence of the Richmond Dispatch.
Processions for may. Anderson — Words of a South Carolina mother — the ladies.

Charleston Jan. 21, 1861.
The Good Book tells us, ‘"if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink"’ We are doing this. We are sending our prisoners fresh beef and vegetables, and, reports say, a little ‘"Heidseick,"’ too. But, for mercy's sake, don't let the abolitionists know this.

Maj. Anderson, as you have heard, married a Georgia lady and has plantations there, and about two hundred negroes. Now that Georgia is out, Maj. Anderson may come out, too. If he don't, he may be forced out.

Nothing from Col. Hayne has yet been made public. It may be that he does not press upon the President his ultimatum, for very good reasons; but, as I before stated, things will not remain as at present long.

A gentleman has just informed me that all our batteries at the different points are now very near completion. They have now ‘"Columbiad"’ and mortars plenty, with abundance of shell. Fort Sumter happens to be like Achilles, vulnerable in the heel. It is in the best of Sumter that we intend to direct our missiles; and when a breach is made, woe to the mates. I intend to pay a visit to Fort Moultrie on Wednesday, with a party of gentlemen, when I will give you some out-lines of things there.

Everything is as quiet as possible to-day, and only reminds me of a perfect calm, which generally precedes a storm. I intend, in a few days, to hold up to your readers a mirror, in which will be seen some of our most prominent men in this State and city — gentlemen who now fill so large a space in the American eye.

Our foreign news from Washington, New York, &c., look to us decidedly warlike; but depend upon it, these Southern States can never be awed or driven into submission to the Government of the United States by all the combined machinations of the world.

A few days ago, a young man who was about starting as a volunteer to Fort Moultrie, as he was about to buckle on his belt his mother took the belt out of his hand, and with her own put it on him, with the remark, ‘"Go, my son, and let your mother say this to you, sever turn your back to the enemies of your State, and if you have to deal with them in deadly conflict, remember your mother's words, never submit to Black Republican rate."’ This was the only son of his mother, and she a widow. Such mothers could not give birth to cowards.

The ladies of our city are actually, to a considerable extent, supplying the army with comforts, such as beds, blankets, clothing, and everything of the kind. One sentiment, one feeling, animates every one. Virginius.

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