Every street was thronged. Couriers on blooded horses dashed to and fro
bearing the messages of imperious masters. From every direction came the
crash of military bands. And over all the steady, low rumble of
artillery and the throbbing tramp of soldiers. In every field and wood
for miles around the city could be heard the neighing of horses, the
bugle call of the trooper, the shouts of gay recruits and the sharp
command of drilling officers.
The rattle of the ambulance and the long, red trenches of the uncoffined
dead had not come yet. They were not even dreamed in the hearts of the
eager, rollicking, fun-loving children of the South.
There were as yet no dances, no social festivities. The town was soldier
mad. Few men not in uniform were to be seen on the streets. A man in
citizen's clothes was under suspicion as to his principles.
With each train, new companies and regiments arrived. Day and night the
tramp of soldiers' feet, the throb of drum, the scream of fife, the
gleam of bayonets.
Everywhere soldiers were welcomed, feted, lionized. The finest ladies of
Richmond vied with one another in serving their soldier guests. Society
turned out _en masse_ to every important review.
Southern society was melted into a single pulsing thought--the fight in
defense of their homes and their liberty.
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