generally conquers. I came off victorious, and we finished preparations
for the siege to-day. Hiring a man to assist, we descended to the
wine-cellar, where the accumulated bottles told of the "banquet-hall
deserted," the spirit and glow of the festive hours whose lights and
garlands were dead, and the last guest long since departed. To empty
this cellar was the work of many hours. Then in the safest corner a
platform was laid for our bed, and in another portion one arranged for
Martha. The dungeon, as I call it, is lighted only by a trap-door, and
is so damp it will be necessary to remove the bedding and mosquito-bars
every day. The next question was of supplies. I had nothing left but a
sack of rice-flour, and no manner of cooking I had heard or invented
contrived to make it eatable. A column of recipes for making delicious
preparations of it had been going the rounds of Confederate papers. I
tried them all; they resulted only in brick-bats or sticky paste. H.
sallied out on a hunt for provisions, and when he returned the
disproportionate quantity of the different articles obtained provoked a
smile. There was a _hogshead_ of sugar, a barrel of syrup, ten pounds of
bacon and peas, four pounds of wheat-flour, and a small sack of
corn-meal, a little vinegar, and actually some spice! The wheat-flour he
purchased for ten dollars as a special favor from the sole remaining
barrel for sale. We decided that must be left for sickness. The sack of
meal, he said, was a case of corruption, through a special providence to
us. There is no more for sale at any price; but, said he, "a soldier who
was hauling some of the Government sacks to the hospital offered me this
for five dollars, if I could keep a secret. When the meal is exhausted,
perhaps we can keep alive on sugar. Here are some wax candles; hoard
them like gold." He handed me a parcel containing about two pounds of
candles, and left me to arrange my treasures. It would be hard for me to
picture the memories those candles called up. The long years melted
away, and I