ed as currency when the invaders came in!

When the _dies irae_ really came; and burning Richmond sent similarly
hidden store,

"With the smoke of its ashes to poison the gale"--

little was the sympathy borne on the breeze for them, who--living
early enough--had shamed the money-changers scourged from the Temple!

CHAPTER XXIII.

AROUND RICHMOND.

In the dead stillness of the afternoon of May 30th, the dull thunder of
artillery and the crackling roll of musketry were distinctly heard in
every house in Richmond.

Deep and painful suspense filled all hearts; until at night it was
known that the enemy had been driven back and badly punished.

The history of "Seven Pines" is familiar to all. Some days previous,
General Keyes' division had been thrown across the Chickahominy, for
the purpose of feeling the Confederate lines and throwing up works that
would secure the Federals that stream. The river, swelled by recent
rains, rose so suddenly as to endanger Keyes' communications with his
rear; and Johnston determined to attack, while he could thus strike in
detail. The miscarriage of part of his plan--by which Huger's troops
did not join the attack--and his own wound, by a piece of shell, late
in the afternoon, alone prevented Johnston's utter destruction of this
Federal corps. As it was, the enemy was driven two miles back of his
camp. Heavily re-enforced next day, he resisted and drove back a
desperate attack about Fair Oaks.

Now, for the first time, the people of Richmond began to see the
realities of war. When the firing began, many ladies were at work for
the soldiers in the churches. These flocked to the doors, pale and
anxious, but with a steady determination in their faces, vainly looked
for in many of the men. Gradually wagons and ambulances began to come
in; slowly at first, toward nightfall more rapidly--each one bearing
some faint and suffering form. Then, and not till then, those women
left their other work and tended the wounded men; giving "the little
cup of water" so precious to them, speaking brave words of cheer while
their very souls grew sick at the unwonted sight of blood and
suffering.

One poor old man, dirty and ragged, lay in a rough, springless cart;
his hard, shoeless feet dropping out at its back, and his long, gray
beard drenched in the blood that welled from his chest at every jolt.
By his side, in the gathering twilight, walked one of Richmond's
fairest daughters; her g