The holiday look had long since disappeared from Texas. No battles had been fought within her borders, but the blood of her brave sons had dyed the sod of many a battlefield elsewhere. For the deadly conflict was raging. The North and the South, fighting as brother against brother, were pouring out their kindred blood day by day; the smoke of their hostile guns darkened the very heavens. Many heroic deeds were done on both sides—deeds which to-day thrill us with wonder and admiration.  
But there were frightful gaps in the ranks of those who had marched away from Texas to the tune of “Dixie” or “The Bonnie Blue Flag.” The gallant lads who had showed off their brave uniforms in the holiday camps were tramping about, barefoot, ragged, and hungry, in Virginia, in Tennessee, in Georgia,—wherever there was an enemy to be attacked or an outpost to be held.
 
Their mothers and sisters at home were making lint and cartridges, weaving and wearing homespun, making their own shoes and gloves, and cheering the far-away “boys” with letters and with home-made gifts, and praying, praying always.
 
There were few able-bodied men left in the state. The women with the old men and boys, aided by the negroes who remained loyal and trustworthy, made the crops. As the war went on the prices of everything rose. Old bills show that forty dollars a yard (Confederate money) was paid for calico for a little girl’s “best” dress; and seventy-five dollars was paid for a boy’s first pair of boots. A war-time arithmetic has among its examples the following:
 
“A cavalryman paid 200 dollars for his pistol and 4000 dollars for his horse; how much did both cost him?”
 
“At 20 dollars a pound, how much coffee can you buy for 40 dollars?”
 
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“If one hat costs 120 dollars, how much would eight hats cost?”
 
Coffee and tea were replaced by drinks made of parched potatoes, or burnt peas, and sassafras roots. The real articles which were brought into the country occasionally by blockade-runners were known as “blockade” coffee and tea, and were kept for the use of the sick.
 
The blockade-runners were very daring and confident. Captain Henry Sherffius of Houston, among others, was noted for his skill in slipping through the line of big ships on watch along the coast of Texas. Once, when he was leaving on one of his trips, he was so sure of himself and his boat that he invited his friends to come to his wedding on a certain day some weeks later. He came back at the appointed time, bringing with him his wedding-cakes, baked in Vera Cruz, Mexico.
 
The Mississippi River rolled, a wide barrier, between the two parts of the Confederacy. Its banks were lined with Federal sharp-shooters, and its yellow waters were dotted with Federal gunboats. It was difficult to get news from the eastern side, where the greater part of the fighting was done, and terrible were the times of waiting between the first rumors of a battle and the receipt of the lists of the killed and wounded. A noble and patriotic citizen of Houston, E. H. Cushing, rendered a priceless service to Texas in this matter. He was at that time and had been for years the editor of the Houston Telegraph. His energy and his devotion to the Confederate cause were unceasing. He established a pony express between the seat of war—wherever that chanced to be—and Texas. His messengers somehow managed to get through the lines when no one else could do so. They went and came, carrying and bringing papers and dispatches, and above all, precious letters from the boys in gray. Mr. Cushing’s express also “ran” to Brownsville.
 
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At the close of the war this true patriot supplied money from his private purse, not only to broken-down and crippled home-coming Confederate soldiers, but to the home-going Federal prisoners from Camp Ford.[39]
 
The Telegraph came out daily throughout the war, some of its later numbers being printed on coarse yellow, red, and blue paper.
 
Amid all the anxiety and hardship there was no thought of giving up. The men of the South believed themselves to be fighting for a just cause; the Northern soldiers were equally sincere in their convictions. And so the war, grim and terrible, went on.
 
In the fall of 1862 General Magruder, Confederate States army, assumed command of the Trans-Mississippi (that is, west of the Mississippi) Department. He determined at once to attempt the recapture of Galveston. He went to Virginia Point, where the Confederate ............