Before my dear Tom got wounded, and was taken to the hospital at New Orleans, I received a letter from him describing a march his regiment had down the banks of a beautiful river in Mississippi, after which they came upon the boundaries of one of those grand mansions that I alluded to before as almost excelling the princely palaces of the grandees of Europe. We used to think Riverside Hall something (continues my dear letter-writer), but Riverside Hall was nothing to Belmont, as this place was called. The family had all left, and there was nobody in and about the princely place. No wonder that the slave-holder had grown rich! With a thousand people to work for them for nothing, and themselves pocketing the entire proceeds of their labors and toils, all they had to do was to bank their money, and lay it out in eating and drinking and riotous living, as the Bible tells us. No wonder that they had pleasant trees and shrubbery, and fine streams gliding through the park here, the smooth lawns reminding one of the garden of Eden before the fall of our first parents. No wonder that they had grand statuary all along their graveled walks, along which fine carriages and lordly companies on foot glided along their sunny way in the palmy days of slavery, now departed to return nevermore! In the Sunny South this day, we marched down the banks of one of the sweetest rivers I have seen in the State of Mississippi. I have written a few verses on the subject; written them on a marble table in the interior of splendid Belmont, a mansion, which for glory and for beauty, it would dazzle your eyes to look upon. Here are the lines I composed: UPON THE SOUTHERN RIVER! Across the bridge we made our way, The dancing waves sang loud and gay, And warm and bright the sunbeams lay, Upon the Southern River! And countless birds sang in the trees, Our banners fluttered in the breeze, All eyes were charmed midst scenes like these, All down the Southern River! Our hearts were light, our bands did play Upon that glorious sunny day. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Beside the southern river! "The Sunny South!—The Sunny South!" These words were ever in each mouth, Suggesting things of love and youth Along the Southern River. And still we marched, and laughed and sang And down the flowery banks we sprang, The wild woods with the echoes rang All down the Southern River! Until we came to "Belmont" grand,— The finest mansion in the land, That on the rising ground does stand Beside the Southern River! Thus my Tom wrote about the Southern river and the Sunny South. After this I never wondered more why the slave-holders fought so hard to gain their independence. No wonder, when they fought for "Belmont," etc.! CHAPTER IX.