The quiet, shady streets were suddenly transformed into the throbbing, tumultuous avenues of a crowded Capital--already numbering more than one hundred thousand inhabitants. Its pulse beat with a new and fevered life. Its atmosphere was tense with the electric rumble of the coming storm--everywhere bustle, hurry and feverish preparations for war. The Tredegar Iron Works had doubled its force of men. Day and night the red glare of the furnaces threw its sinister glow over the yellow, turbulent waters of the James. With every throb now of its red heart a cannon was born destined to slay a thousand men. Every hill was white with the tents of soldiers, their camps stretching away into the distant fields and forests. Every street was thronged. Couriers on blooded horses dashed to and fro bearing the messages of imperious masters. From every direction came the crash of military bands. And over all the steady, low rumble of artillery and the throbbing tramp of soldiers. In every field and wood for miles around the city could be heard the neighing of horses, the bugle call of the trooper, the shouts of gay recruits and the sharp command of drilling officers. The rattle of the ambulance and the long, red trenches of the uncoffined dead had not come yet. They were not even dreamed in the hearts of the eager, rollicking, fun-loving children of the South. There were as yet no dances, no social festivities. The town was soldier mad. Few men not in uniform were to be seen on the streets. A man in citizen's clothes was under suspicion as to his principles. With each train, new companies and regiments arrived. Day and night the tramp of soldiers' feet, the throb of drum, the scream of fife, the gleam of bayonets. Everywhere soldiers were welcomed, feted, lionized. The finest ladies of Richmond vied with one another in serving their soldier guests. Society turned out _en masse_ to every important review. Southern society was melted into a single pulsing thought--the fight in defense of their homes and their liberty. In the white heat of this mighty impulse the barriers of class and sex were melted. The most delicately reared and cultured lady of society admitted without question the right of any man who wore a gray uniform to speak to her without introduction and escort her anywhere on the streets. In not a single instance was this high privilege abused by an insult, indignity or an improper word. Socola saw but one lady who showed the slightest displeasure. A dainty little woman of eight, delicately trained in the ways of polite society, was shocked at the familiarity of a soldier who had dared to caress her. She turned to her elderly companion and gasped with indignation: "Auntie! Did you ever! Any man who wears a stripe on his pantaloons now thinks he can speak to a lady!" Socola laughed and passed on to inspect the camp of the famous Hampton Legion of South Carolina.