RICHMOND SCENES IN ’62.

443

were not, with all the equipments of modern warfare, and backed by a mightynation as determined as ourselves to win. Hardly a family in the townwhose father, son, or brother was not part and parcel of the defending army.

When on the afternoon of the 31st it became known that the engagementhad begun, the women of Richmond were still going about their daily voca-tions quietly, giving no sign of the inward anguish of apprehension. Therewas enough to do now in preparation for the wounded ; yet, as events proved,all that was done was not enough by half. Night brought a lull in the can-nonading. People lay down dressed upon beds, but not to sleep, while theweary soldiers slept upontheir arms. Early nextmorning the whole townwas on the street. Ambu-lances, litters, carts, everyvehicle that the city couldproduce, went and camewith a ghastly burden;those who could walk limpedpainfully home, in somecases so black with gunpow-der they passed unrecog-nized. Women with pallidfaces flitted bareheadedthrough the streets search-ing for their dead orwounded. The churcheswere thrown open, manypeople visiting them for asad communion-service orbrief time of prayer; thelecture-rooms of variousplaces of wo 1 'ship werecrowded with ladies volun-

fast

teering to

sew, as

FOOD FOR THE CONFEDERATE WOUNDED.

as fingers could fly, the rough beds calledfor by the surgeons. Men too old or infirm to fight went on horsebackor afoot to meet the returning ambulances, and in some cases served asescort to their own dying sons. By afternoon of the day following thebattle, the streets were one vast hospital. To find shelter for the sufferersa number of unused buildings were thrown open. I remember, especially,the St. Charles Hotel, a gloomy place, where two young girls went to lookfor a member of their family, reported wounded. We had tramped in vainover pavements burning with the intensity of the sun, from one scene ofhorror to another, until our feet and brains alike seemed about to serve us nofurther. The cool of those vast dreary rooms of the St. Charles was refresh-ing ; but such a spectacle! Men in every stage of mutilation lying on thebare boards, with perhaps a haversack or an army blanket beneath their