June 1861 Near Manassas, Va.

Our Army is gathering here and nearby, and my search for a place in it
has ended successfully! Colonel Nathan Evans, whom his old Army friends call
"Shanks, " has taken me on as a volunteer aide, and has made me an honorary
captain.  I hope the Confederate government will make me a "real" captain
sometime.  But they are much too busy trying to equip and prepare an army in
the field to worry about such things.  

Colonel Evans is as fierce as a pirate, a wild man with piercing, angry
eyes. He looks like a fighter.  But sometimes, when he smiles, a much happier
and more likeable person appears.  He is mostly stern, however, and he likes
whiskey even more than I do.  He carries it around in what he calls a
"barrelita " ( a little barrel, I think, a term he must have picked up in the
war with Mexico). He is a former U.S. Army officer from South Carolina.

Mary Jane writes that she and many of her woman friends are working very
hard in the absence of their husbands.  Even in normal times, many of us are
regularly gone from our homes on business and political matters, and the
ladies have to run the farms and estates for short periods of time.  This
time, I fear, the ladies will have to manage things alone for a long time.  I
pray to the Almighty every day that he will shower his Providence on the
women at home, as much as on the men in the Army.

Mary Jane normally becomes sad  or "blue" (as she calls it) in the Fall, 
just like many of the wives.  The duty to stay home and tend to the needs of
their families and husbands is expected of them, of course.  But many of them
are able to travel to their own parents' and brothers' and sisters' homes
each summer, giving them a happy change from their duties.  They love the
dances and parties and the carefree life, so much like the days before they
were married and had husbands and children and estates to serve.

But this summer, with the Yankees perhaps just days away, Mary Jane and
the other wives will have to stay at home and miss their parties and travel.
 
Saltron is by far the handsomest and healthiest horse in the camp; I've
turned away many officers wanting to buy him.  He seems to enjoy the new and
strange sights and places and sounds and smells. He is as prepared for the
adventure as I am!