No pen can do justice to the scenes I would fain describe.  Language is quite inadequate to express the feeling which then lived and had its being in the hearts of all Southern women towards the heroes who had risen up to defend the liberties of the South.  Exalted far above mere sentiment, holding no element of vanity or selfishness,—­idolatrous, if you will, yet an idolatry which inspired the heart, nerved the hand, and made any sacrifice possible.  No purer patriotism ever found lodgment in human breast.  No more sacred fire was ever kindled by human hands on any altar than the impulse which imperatively called men from the peaceful avocations of life to repel the threatened invasion of their homes and firesides.  They were actuated by no spirit of hatred or revenge (then).  They sought not to despoil, to lay waste.  But, when justice was dethroned, her place usurped by the demon of hate and prejudice, when the policy of coercion and invasion was fully developed, with one heart and voice the South cried aloud, “Stand! The ground’s your own, my braves.”

Swift as a meteor, yet clear and unwavering, flashed and burned the beacon-light first kindled in South Carolina.  A million torches lighted at this flame were borne aloft throughout the Southland.

And now the invader had been met and foiled in his first attempt to conquer and desolate the homes of Virginia.  Who can wonder that their brave defenders were the idols of a grateful people?  Their valor, having been fully tested, had far surpassed the expectations of the most sanguine.  “Hope told a flattering tale.”  Alas! too flattering, for the confidence begotten by this first success inspired a contempt for the foe quite undeserved.

Meanwhile, the summer sun still brightened the unharmed capitol.  The summer wind still bore aloft on the dome in Capitol Square the flag of the new Confederacy, the “stars and bars.”  Here, after sunset and in the moonlight, came young men and maidens, matrons and children.  Old men, too, who, baring their silvery heads to the cool breeze, gazed upward at the bonnie flag, with a look half triumphant, half sad; for the love of the “star-spangled banner” had grown with their growth and strengthened with their strength, and it had been hard to tear it from their hearts.

To young eyes the new flag seemed an emblem of glory.  Young hearts glowed with pride as often as they looked upon it.  The story of the eventful hour when it first replaced the “stars and stripes” and floated over the capitol building in full view of the whole city, hailed by acclamations from many thousand voices, is still told with pride by the citizens of Richmond.