Edmund Kirby-Smith, who had played in St. Augustine’s streets as a boy, became one of the leading Confederate Generals. His father came to the city in 1822 as Judge of the Superior Court and died here in 1846. His mother continued to occupy their home on what is now Aviles Street. During January of 1861 she wrote her son: “Our hearts are steeped in sadness and anxiety. Forebodings of evil yet to come depress us. We are threatened with the greatest calamity that can befall a nation. Civil war stares us in the face.” In the same letter she tells of how the news of Florida’s secession from the Union was received at St. Augustine: “Our state has seceded, and it was announced here by the firing of cannon and musketry, and much shooting. A large flag made by the ladies is waving on the square. By order of the Governor of this State, the Fort, Barracks, and Federal property were taken possession of. Cannon are mounted on the ramparts of the Fort to defend it if any attempt should be made to retake it.” Soon the shouting ceased and war became a stark reality with its heartaches, poverty, and privation. Many young men from St. Augustine went into the Confederate armies. The majority of its northern-born residents returned to the North to live for the duration of the war. The flow of visitors to the city ceased. During March of 1862 a Union blockading squadron appeared off the inlet, and an officer came ashore with a white flag to demand the city’s surrender. During the night its small Confederate garrison withdrew. Next morning St. Augustine was occupied by Union forces and held by them during the remainder of the conflict. Before the Federal troops landed the women of the city cut down the flag pole in the Plaza so that the Union standard could not be raised where their Confederate banner had waved. [Illustration: _Travelers complained bitterly of the service on the Picolata stage line, here shown bogged down enroute to St. Augustine. From a sketch made in 1867._] _Tourist Industry Resumed_ When the Civil War came to an end in 1865, St. Augustine was three centuries old. As the effects of the war and the reconstruction period wore away, the entertainment of winter residents and visitors was resumed. The city was still exceptionally quaint and foreign in appearance. [Illustration: {Mule-drawn streetcar}] A visitor of 1869 found the Florida House, one of the city’s three small hotels, crowded with guests and wrote: “The number of strangers here greatly exceeded our expectations, and thronged in every street and public place. The fashionable belle of Newport and Saratoga, the pale, thoughtful clergyman of New England, were at all points encountered.”