MAY 28TH.—Little or no business was done this day. The Secretary announced that no more communications would be considered by him in Montgomery. He placed in my charge a great many unopened letters, and a special list of candidates for of?ce, with annotations. These I packed in my trunk.
As I was to precede the Secretary, and having some knowledge of the capacity of the public buildings in Richmond, I was charged with the duty of securing, if possible, suitable of?ces for the Department of War. I made hasty preparations for departure.
Before starting, something prompted me to call once more at the post-of?ce, where, to my surprise and delight, I found a letter from my wife. She was in Richmond, with all the children, Tabby and the parrot. She had left Burlington about the same time I had left Richmond. At Havre-de-Grace, on the Susquehanna, which they crossed in the night, my youngest daughter was compelled with dif?culty to stride over the sleeping bodies of Yankee soldiers. She writes that she deposited, very carefully, our plate in the bank! The idea that all might have been brought off if she had only known it, is the source of her wretchedness. She writes that she had been materially assisted by Mr. Grubb and his lady, prompted by personal friendship, by humanity, and by those generous instincts of the true nobility of heart imparted by the Creator. ‘Mr. G. is true to the Constitution and the Government under which he lives—and would doubtless never consent to a rupture of the Union under any circumstances. He has a son in the army against us. And Col. Wall, another personal friend, boldly shook hands with my family at parting, while the Wide-Awake ?le leaders stood scowling by. I hope he may not suffer for his temerity.
These things occupied my thoughts during a sleepless night in the cars. My abode in New Jersey had been a pleasant one. I had a ?ne yard and garden, and many agreeable neighbors. I loved my garden, and cultivated my own grapes, pears, peaches, apples, raspberries, currants, and strawberries. I had fruits and vegetables in the greatest profusion. And the thrushes and other migratory birds had come to know me well, and sang me to sleep at night, and awakened me with their strains in the morning. They built their nests near the windows, for the house was embowered in trees, and half covered with ivy. Even my cats, for every living thing was a pet to some one of the family,—when I think of them now, wandering about unprotected, give rise to painful emotions. But even my youngest child was willing to make any sacri?ce for the sake of her country. The South is our only home—we have been only temporary sojourners elsewhere.