Elsie’s were from her Aunt Adelaide, Walter, and Enna.  Rose’s from her mother, Richard, May, and Sophie.

The last seemed written in a state of distraction.

“Rose, Rose, I think I shall go crazy! my husband and his brothers have enlisted in the Confederate army.  They, Harry especially, are furious at the North and full of fight; and I know my brothers at home will enlist on the other side; and what if they should meet and kill each other!  Oh, dear! oh, dear! my heart is like to break!

“And what is it all about?  I can’t see that anybody’s oppressed; but when I tell Harry so, he just laughs and says, ’No, we’re not going to wait till they have time to rivet our chains,’ ‘But,’ I say, ’I’ve had neither sight nor sound of chains; wait at least till you hear their clank.’  Then he laughs again, but says soothingly, ’Never mind, little wife; don’t distress yourself; the North won’t fight; or if they do try it, will soon give it up,’ But I know they won’t give up:  they wouldn’t be Americans if they did.

“Arthur and Walter Dinsmore were here yesterday, and Arthur is worse than Harry a great deal; actually told me he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot down any or all of my brothers, if he met them in Federal uniform.  Walter is almost silent on the subject, and has not yet enlisted.  Arthur taunted him with being for the Union, and said if he was quite sure of it he’d shoot him, or help hang him to the nearest tree.

“Oh, Rose! pray, pray that this dreadful war may be averted!”

Rose felt almost stunned with horror as she read; but her tears fell fast as she hurriedly perused the contents of the other three, learning from them that Richard, Harold, and Fred had already enlisted, and Edward would do the same should the war continue long.

“My heart is torn in two!” she cried, looking piteously up in her husband’s face, with the tears streaming down her own.

“What is it, my darling?” he asked, coming to her and taking her cold hands in his.

“Oh my country! my country!  My brothers, too—­and yours! they are pitted against each other—­have enlisted in the opposing armies.  Oh, Horace, Horace! what ever shall we do?”

“God reigns, dearest; let that comfort you and all of us,” he said, in moved tones.  “It is dreadful, dreadful!  Brothers, friends, neighbors, with hearts full of hatred and ready to imbrue their hands in each other’s blood and for what?  That a few ambitious, selfish, unscrupulous men may retain and increase their power; for this they are ready to shed the blood of tens of thousands of their own countrymen, and bring utter ruin upon our beautiful, sunny South.”

“Oh, papa, surely not!” cried Elsie; “these papers say the war cannot last more than three months.”

“They forget that it will be American against American.  If it is over in three years, ’twill be shorter than I expect.”

Elsie was weeping, scarcely less distressed than Rose.