strolled through its streets alone, wondering in which
one of the big old-fashioned mansions lived the remarkable Southern
woman to whom his Government had referred him for orders. He must await
the arrival of the messenger who would deliver to him in person its
description. In the meantime with tireless eye he was studying the
physical formation of every street and alley. He must know it, every
crook and turn.

Until the advent of the troops Richmond had been one of the quietest of
all the smaller cities of America. Barely forty thousand inhabitants,
one third of whom were negro slaves, it could boast none of the displays
or excitements of a metropolis. Its vices were few, its life orderly and
its society the finest type of the genuine American our country had
developed.

Rowdyism was unknown. The police department consisted of a dozen
"watchmen" whose chief duty was to round up a few straggling negroes who
might be found on the streets after nine o'clock at night and put them
in "the Cage" until morning. "The Cage" was a ramshackled wooden
building too absurd to be honored by the name of prison.

The quiet, shady streets were suddenly transformed into the throbbing,
tumultuous avenues of a crowded Capital--already numbering more than one
hundred thousand inhabitants.

Its pulse beat with a new and fevered life. Its atmosphere was tense
with the electric rumble of the coming storm--everywhere bustle, hurry
and feverish preparations for war. The Tredegar Iron Works had doubled
its force of men. Day and night the red glare of the furnaces threw its
sinister glow over the yellow, turbulent waters of the James. With every
throb now of its red heart a cannon was born destined to slay a thousand
men.

Every hill was white with the tents of soldiers, their camps stretching
away into the distant fields and forests.

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, fu