The Daily Dispatch: January 2, 1862., [Electronic resource]

Extract of a letter from a Southern lady.

‘ "I love the true soldiers of the South; I love them everywhere, and wish I could do something for their comfort; but, owing to the humble surroundings of home, I can do nothing; yet I will never forget to ask the ever merciful Father, from his high throne in Heaven, to guide their every step and see each fetter riven. May they, with united efforts, be strong, trusting in Him to the last breath of their lives. May those who fall in the battle fall trusting in Him who musters the hosts there; and when the last arrogant monarch's magisterial crown with all its gorgeous beauties in the dust shall have blended, may theirs be one sparkling with eternal glories."

"Numbered with the Confederate soldiers I have a brother, whose blood ere long may dampen and crimson one little spot of some dearly-bought field; yet for no price would I have him at home this night. I feel proud that he is gone. A way from kindred hearts, he may fall where will be no kind hand to even ease his dying posture, and there, pale and lifeless, be pelted by a winter's storm, or parched by a summer's sun, and even vultures feed upon his mortal body. This all cannot hurt his immortal soul, that must live for ever in case or pain, C, may he so live that his soul may be borne, upon the plumed wings of bright angels away to the happy mansions in the fields of eternal rest!"

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