Crowds of men, women
and children crowded the Capitol Square fighting with smoke and flying
cinders for a breath of fresh air. Piles of furniture lay heaped on its
greensward. Terror-stricken, weeping women had dragged it from their
homes. In improvised tents made of broken tables and chairs covered with
sheets and bedding hundreds of homeless women and children huddled.
As night fell the pitiful reaction came from the turmoil and excitement
of the day. The quiet of a great desolation brooded over the smoking
ruins.
In the rich and powerful North millions were mad with joy. In New York
twenty thousand people gathered in Union Square and sang the Doxology.
Jennie Barton was in Richmond through it all and yet the tragedy made no
impression on her heart or mind. A greater event absorbed her.
Dick Welford had hurried to Lee's army on the day following Socola's
departure from Richmond. He wanted to fight once more. Through all the
whirlwind of death and blood from the first crash with Grant in the
Wilderness to his vain assaults on Petersburg he had fought without a
scratch. His life was charmed. And then in the first day of the final
struggle which broke the lines of Lee's starving army he fell, leading
his men in a glorious charge.
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