  When I reached Wilmington I found everything in a stir. Everybody wore a cockade, a miniature flag, or a uniform. Officers, with waving plumes, rode furiously up and down the streets; the roll of drums, as companies marched in from the camps, was heard at all hours of the day; and with every whistle of the train arose the thrilling shout of legions, passing on to the front. Ladies pricked their tender fingers sewing the stout gray cloth, or thronged the War was in its youth; the scowl of battle had not yet gathered on its brow, and the flowers with which Beauty strewed its pathway were not yet bedewed with the red drops of carnage, nor withered in the smoke and heat of conflict. Father had already raised a company, up at the plantation in Wayne, and they were now out at the camp of instruction near town. When I joined, they complimented me by electing me second lieutenant, and I felt as proud of the little yellow bars on my collar as Lord Dreddlington did of his Garter. What a pastime was soldiering then; sleeping in tents for the first time, cooking our own meals, going out with a new gun to play sentry, marching through the dress parade in the evening, before the long line of carriages, filled with our sweethearts from the town! I had moved out to the camp, and though it was very near town, I had to get a pass whenever I wished to see Carlotta. The very novelty of this, however, rendered it pleasant, and I no doubt wearied the commandant by my frequent applications. Our marriage had been fixed for the 15th of June, but as our company expected to leave for Richmond by the 12th, we made the appointment nearer by ten days, and on the 5th of June, 1861—a fair, cloudless morning—we were married. It was a plain, unostentatious wedding—different, indeed, from what I had anticipated. Only a few friends with us, a slight collation in the parlor, a short excursion to Smithville, and it was all over. Yet Carlotta was dearer to me, in her simple Swiss muslin, than she would have been in satin and lace; and I felt, as she looked up radiantly into my face, that she was prouder of me, in my suit of gray, than if I had worn the finest cloth. On our return from Smithville I found a short letter from “Dear john,” he wrote, “when Curnal Smith was up here, I couldent leave on account of Viny, but it’s come now, and a fine one it is, and Viny is doin’ well; so I’ll be down sum’ers about the last of the week. i hate orful to leave Viny and the baby, and it’ll be mity lonesome at night, not to trot him on my nee, but I be dogged if ime goin’ to see the yankeys get into north Carolina if my carciss will help to stop ’em. Less me and you git together when we fight, cause I want somebody ime cwainted with to see me ‘mongst the balls, and it’ll help me to keep game. “if i don’t git to Wilminton in time, i’ll meet you at Goldsboro’. Till Death, yours, Ben.” |
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