In the "doomed city," as throughout the whole country, all
things were going to wreck and ruin. During the summer and autumn,
suffering had oppressed the whole community; but now misery clutched
the very heartstrings. Society had been convulsed--now, all the
landmarks of the past seemed about to disappear in the deluge. Richmond
presented the appearance, and lived after the manner, of a besieged
city, as General Grant called it. It no longer bore the least likeness
to its former peaceful and orderly self. The military police had
usurped the functions of the civil, and the change was for the worse.
Garroters swarmed the streets of the city after dark. House-breakers
everywhere carried on their busy occupation. Nothing was safe from
these prowlers of the night; all was fish for their nets. The old
clothes in rags and bales; the broken china and worn spoons; the very
food, obtained through immense exertions by some father to feed his
children--all became the spoil of these night-birds, who were ever on
the watch. When you went to make a visit in the evening, you took your
hat and cloak with you into the drawing-room, to have them under your
eye. When you retired at night, you deposited your watch and purse
under your pillow. At the hotels, you never thought of placing your
boots outside the door; and the landlords, in the morning, carefully
looked to see if the towels, or the blankets of the beds had been
stolen.
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