Cloth was two hundred dollars a yard. Sorghum had taken the
place of sugar. Salt was sold by the ounce. Quinine was one dollar a
grain. Paper to write upon was torn from old blank books. The ten or
twenty dollars which the soldiers received for their monthly pay, was
about sufficient to buy a sheet, a pen, and a little ink to write home
to their starving families that they too were starving.
In town and country the atmosphere seemed charged with coming ruin. All
things were in confusion. Everywhere something jarred. The executive
was unpopular. The heads of departments were inefficient. The army was
unfed. The finances were mismanaged. In Congress the opposition
bitterly criticised President Davis. The press resounded with fierce
diatribes, _pro_ and _con_, on all subjects. The _Examiner_ attacked
the government, and denounced the whole administration of affairs. The
_Sentinel_ replied to the attacks, and defended the assailed officials.
One could see nothing that was good. The other could see nothing that
was bad. Their readers adopted their opinions; looking through glasses
that were deep green, or else _couleur de rose_. But the green glasses
outnumbered the rose-colored more and more every day.
Thus, in the streets of the city, and in the shades of the country, all
was turmoil, confusion--a hopeless brooding on the hours that were
coming.
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