I fear that they have nearly all come to grief since then, except Mr.Benjamin, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who before his death, which occurred several years after the time that I write, made himself a name in England worthy of his high talents and education.
I had the honour, while in Richmond, of being invited to a tea party by Mrs.Davis, the President's wife, which I thought very interesting.

The ladies were all dressed in deep mourning; some (the greater part) for the sad reason that they had lost near and dear relatives in the wretched war; the others, I suppose, were in mourning for their country's misfortunes.

Mrs.Davis moved about the room saying something civil to every one, while the President, though a stern-looking man who never smiled, tried to make himself agreeable to his guests, and gave one the idea of a thorough gentleman.

I saw there military officers who had lately come from the front, surrounded by groups of people anxious for news; delegates from distant seceding States; messengers from Hood's army, about which many were beginning to be anxious; sympathising foreigners, government officials, and many others.

The whole of the conversation naturally related to the prospects of the cause, and no one would have guessed from what he heard in President Davis's house that the end was so near.
I was anxious before my return to see something of the army that had so long defended Richmond.