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Thomas C. DeLeon, Four years in Rebel capitals: an inside view of life in the southern confederacy, from birth to death., Chapter 18: society at the Capital. (search)
ou find your back on the grass and your heels in the air. But I've some steadygoing cousins I want to introduce you to. Suit you exactly. Confound the boy! Where did he get that idea? But I was introduced to the steady-going cousins and to me now the Richmond of memory begins and ends in their circle. The jovial, pleasant family dinner around the old-time board; the consciousness of ready welcome to the social fireside, or partake of the muffin at eight, or the punch-brewed very near Father Tom's receipt-at midnight. Then the never-to-be-forgotten coterie of the brightest women of the day under the shaded droplight, in the long winter evenings! And none were excluded by the steady goers because they had committed matrimony. They did quantities of work that season; baskets of socks, bales of shirts and boxes of gloves, in numbers marvelous to see, went from that quiet circle to warm the frozen hands and feet, keeping watch and ward for them. And the simple words of cheer and lo
Thomas C. DeLeon, Four years in Rebel capitals: an inside view of life in the southern confederacy, from birth to death., Chapter 33: wit and humor of the war. (search)
discovered the junior laureate, the writer will not essay to do so. Colonel Tom August, of the First Virginia, was the Charles Lamb of Confederate war-wits; genial, quick and ever gay. Early in secession days, a bombastic friend approached Colonel Tom, with the query: Well, sir, I presume your voice is still for war? To which the wit replied promptly: Oh, yes, devilish still! Later, when the skies looked darkest and rumors of abandoning Richmond were wildly flying, Colonel August was limping up the street. A quidnunc hailed him: Well! The city is to be given up. They're moving the medical stores. Glad of it! called back Colonel Tom-We'll get rid of all this blue mass! From the various army camps floated out stories, epigrams and anecdotes unnumbered; most of them wholly forgotten, with only a few remembered from local color, or peculiar point. General Zeb Vance's apostrophe to the buck-rabbit, flying by him from heavy rifle fire: Go it,--cotton-tail! If I