“I don’t think they want to kill the women; but if that is necessary for the maintenance of the Union, I suppose they will have to do it.” “Wretches! wretches! They’ll kill the women, will they?” she screamed, and her eyes blazed fire and scintillated like the eyes of a maniac. I thought she was going to leap upon me in her fury. We were standing facing each other; and I made up my mind that if she did assault me that I would do my little share of fighting, and choke a little of the treason out of her. But she changed her mind, and rushed from the room, slamming the door after her with such force as to shake the house to its foundations. A year after that she was playing the _rôle_ of a Union woman, and was quite popular as a loyal Southerner among the officers. No one in these calm days can imagine the fiery, cruel spirit of war. I was not afraid; the Stars and Stripes were over us, and the Union army within call. But what seems laughable to me now, was exceedingly exasperating and insulting at that time. There is no question about the matter--the Southern women, in their blind, partisan fury, prolonged the contest to the last extreme of desperation. They could not believe defeat possible. No longer we hear the clash of arms, And the cannon’s fearful booming; No longer the torch of war alarms, Our cities and homes consuming: The smoke of battle has cleared away, And Peace her vigil is keeping, Though wet with tears are the flowers we lay, Where our gallant dead are sleeping. VISITING HOSPITALS UNDER THE GUNS. I came down the river with a heavy lot of supplies at the beginning of the siege. I sent an order to the quartermaster for an ambulance. Instead of sending the ambulance, he sent me a fine silver-mounted, easy carriage captured at Jackson, which I afterwards found drew the fire of the enemy. It was reported in Vicksburg that an old, experienced general, too crippled to ride on horseback, made his rounds in that carriage, and the Confederates made it a target every day. One captain of sharpshooters told Dr. Maxwell of Davenport, Iowa, that his men had sent more than a hundred shots after that carriage, supposing some high official was the occupant. He was very much shocked to know that they had been shooting at a lady. In most cases the shot fell low, but the wheels were chipped till they were quite a curiosity. I drove out in company with Mrs. General Stone to the nearest hospital one day. We had gone through the tents, and attended to the business that had brought us, and were standing beside the carriage, when a shell from Vicksburg burst near us, scattering fragments all around us. To me the shock was terrific. I could feel my flesh crawl in the most uncomfortable way, and every hair on my head seemed to stand upright. “Are you so near the enemy’s guns?” I questioned. “Oh, yes; all the hospitals are under fire. A shell burst in this hospital a few days ago, killing one man and wounding three others.”