I had not heard from my husband for more than a week--indeed, there seems to have been in Richmond at this time a singular ignorance concerning our reverses around Petersburg. There were hunger and nakedness and death and pestilence and fire and sword everywhere, and we, fugitives from shot and shell, knew it well, but, somehow, we laughed and sang and played on the piano--and never believed in actual defeat and subjugation. Sunday morning, the second of April, as President Davis sat in his pew at St. Paul’s Church, a slip of paper was brought to him. He read it, quietly arose, and left the church. General Lee advised the evacuation of Richmond by eight o’clock that night. That was what rumor told us at the Arlington. At first we did not believe it, but as that spring day wore on we were convinced. The Sabbath calm was changed to bustle and confusion--almost into riot. The streets were full of people hurrying in all directions, but chiefly in the direction of the Danville depot. Men, women, and children jostled each other in their haste to reach this spot. Loaded vehicles of every description rattled over the pavements. During the day proclamation was made that all who wished could come to the Commissary Department and get anything they wanted in the way of provisions--without pay. I for one, in spite of my loathing for dried apples and peas, and a lively objection to starvation, would not entertain the thought at first. But the situation was serious. We discussed it in council, sitting around our room on beds, chairs, trunks, and the floor. We could not foresee the straits to which we might be brought. We considered that the evacuation of Richmond implied we knew not what. Unless we provided now by laying in some stores we might actually starve. Besides, Mrs. Sampson said she was just _bound_ to have a whole barrel of flour, and she was going for it. That declaration wound up the conference. Mother said she would go with Mrs. Sampson, and I must needs go, I thought, to protect mother. We put on our bonnets--home-made straw trimmed with chicken feathers--and started. Such a crowd as we found ourselves in! such a starveling mob! I got frightened and sick, and mother and Mrs. Sampson were daunted. We had not gone many squares before we changed our course, and went to Mrs. Taylor’s (Colonel Walter Taylor’s mother) and I ran up the steps and asked her to lend us Bob, her youngest son, who was at home then, for our escort. She and Bob explained regretfully that he could not serve us. Walter was to be married that day, and Bob had his hands full at home. “Married?” I cried in astonishment. I had known of his engagement, and that he expected to be married as soon as possible, but marrying at this crisis was incredible.