The next winter we had the protection of Lieutenant Latimer and his company from Fort Ridgley, a most genial and whole-souled Southern gentleman, who endeared himself to us by his frank kindly manners. Gen. Irwin McDowell, inspecting officer, made us a charming visit during this winter, and by his kindly, unassuming manner, won all hearts, while his splendid form and manly beauty made an impression on us never to be effaced. He survived the war, but died in the prime of life, sincerely mourned by a large circle of friends and fellow soldiers. Possibly we might have spent our lives at Long Prairie, but for the bombardment of Fort Sumter, on the eventful 12th of April, 1861, whose vibrations thrilled the whole North, and reaching us in our pastoral home, changed entirely our plans and purposes. When our youngest boy was twenty-four hours old, his father went to St. Paul, in obedience to a summons from Governor Ramsey, and was soon after commissioned Colonel of the "2d" Regiment of Minnesota Volunteers, which was rendezvoused at Fort Snelling for thorough organization and drill. As soon as possible his family joined him there, and, once again my temporary home was in the old Headquarters, and in memory I live my childhood over again. The few weeks spent there were full of excitement and pleasant incidents, but over all, hung the dark shadow of the dreadful civil war, and hearts ached sorely, in spite of the brave talk and smiling faces. Writing of those days I recall a picture of the parade ground at the time of the sunset drum: the men are placed by companies, the officers in proper position; many visitors, ladies and gentlemen, stand near; the drum beats, the flag is lowered; and, as the Chaplain steps forward, every head is uncovered, and he offers the evening prayer to the God of battles. I am glad they prayed; did they think of this when they gained the victory in that first, fierce battle at Mill Spring? And there are those living, who will recall that sad parting hour, when those brave men said, "Good-bye, and God bless you," to their mothers, wives and children, and went forth with tearful eyes, and quivering lips to hazard their lives for their country. It was a holy cause, and the women, too, were brave, and would not hold them back, but entered willingly upon that sad, weary time, when tears were shed till the fountains were dry; when prayers and groanings that could not be uttered, arose to heaven by day and by night, alike from luxurious homes, and from humble cottages, for the safety of the beloved ones, and the success of the sacred cause. The children felt it, too. A little curly-headed seven year old boy, whose father was at the front, waking one night from troubled sleep, stole softly to his mother's bedside, and kissing her tenderly, said, in a voice broken with sobs: "Mother, did you pray for father to-night?" She replied: "Yes, my son, mother never forgets that." "But, mother, are you sure?" "Yes, dear one." "Well, mother,