May 26.—During the past week we have lived somewhat like Venetians, with a boat at front steps and a raft at the back. Sunday H. and I took skiff to church. The clergyman, who is also tutor at a planter’s across the lake, preached to the few who had arrived in skiffs. We shall not [...]
April 30.—The last two weeks have glided quietly away without incident except the arrival of new neighbors—Dr. Y., his wife, two children, and servants. That a professional man prospering in Vicksburg should come now to settle in this retired place looks queer. Max said: “H., that man has come here to hide from the conscript [...]
April 28, 1862.—This evening has been very lovely, but full of a sad disappointment. H. invited me to drive. As we turned homeward he said: “Well, my arrangements are completed. You can begin to pack your trunks to-morrow, and I shall have a talk with Max.” Mr. R. and Annie were sitting on the gallery [...]
April 13, 1862.—This morning I was sewing up a rent in H.’s garden-coat, when Aunt Judy rushed in. “Laws! Mis’ L., here’s Mr. Max and Mis’ Annie done come back!” A buggy was coming up with Max, Annie, and Reeney. “Well, is the war over?” I asked. “Oh, I got sick!” replied our returned soldier, [...]
April 1, 1862.—The last ten days have brought changes in the house. Max R. left with the company to be mustered in, leaving with us his weeping Annie. Hardly were her spirits somewhat composed when her brother arrived from Natchez to take her home. This morning he, Annie, and Reeney, the black handmaiden, posted off. [...]
March 22, 1862.—H., Mr. R., and Mike have been very busy the last few days getting the acre of kitchen-garden plowed and planted. The stay-law has stopped all legal business, and they have welcomed this work. But to-day a thunderbolt fell in our household. Mr. R. came in and announced that he has agreed to [...]
March 20, 1862.—A man professing to act by General Hindman’s orders is going through the country impressing horses and mules. The overseer of a certain estate came to inquire of H. if he had not a legal right to protect the property from seizure. Mr. L. said yes, unless the agent could show some better [...]
March 18, 1862.—There has been unusual gayety in this little village the past few days. The ladies from the surrounding plantations went to work to get up a festival to equip the new company. As Annie and myself are both brides recently from the city, requisition was made upon us for engravings, costumes, music, garlands, [...]
March 11, 1862.—The serpent has entered our Eden. The rancor and excitement of New Orleans have invaded this place. If an incautious word betrays any want of sympathy with popular plans, one is “traitorous,” “ungrateful,” “crazy.” If one remains silent, and controlled, then one is “phlegmatic,” “cool-blooded,” “unpatriotic.” Cool-blooded! Heavens! if they only knew. It [...]
Feb. 27, 1862.—The people here have hardly felt the war yet. There are but two classes. The planters and the professional men form one; the very poor villagers the other. There is no middle class. Ducks and partridges, squirrels and fish, are to be had. H. has bought me a nice pony, and cantering along [...]
Feb. 15, 1862. (Village of X.)—We reached Arkansas Landing at nightfall. Mr. Y., the planter who owns the landing, took us right up to his residence. He ushered me into a large room where a couple of candles gave a dim light, and close to them, and sewing as if on a race with time, [...]
Friday, Jan. 24, 1862. (On steamboat W., Mississippi River.)—With a changed name I open you once more, my journal. It was a sad time to wed, when one knew not how long the expected conscription would spare the bridegroom. The women-folk knew how to sympathize with a girl expected to prepare for her wedding in [...]
Jan. 2, 1862.—I am glad enough to bid ‘61 goodbye. Most miserable year of my life! What ages of thought and experience have I not lived in it. Last Sunday I walked home from church with a young lady teacher in the public schools. The teachers have been paid recently in “shin-plasters.” I don’t understand [...]
Dec. 26, 1861.—The foul weather cleared off bright and cool in time for Christmas. There is a midwinter lull in the movement of troops. In the evening we went to the grand bazaar in the St. Louis Hotel, got up to clothe the soldiers. This bazaar has furnished the gayest, most fashionable war-work yet, and [...]
Nov. 26, 1861.—The lingering summer is passing into those misty autumn days I love so well, when there is gold and fire above and around us. But the glory of the natural and the gloom of the moral world agree not well together. This morning Mrs. F. came to my room in dire distress. “You [...]
Nov. 10.—Surely this year will ever be memorable to me for its perfection of natural beauty. Never was sunshine such pure gold, or moonlight such transparent silver. The beautiful custom prevalent here of decking the graves with flowers on All Saint’s day was well fulfilled, so profuse and rich were the blossoms. On All-hallow Eve [...]
Oct. 28, 1861.—When I dropped in at Uncle Ralph’s last evening to welcome them back, the whole family were busy at a great center-table copying sequestration acts for the Confederate Government. The property of all Northerners and Unionists is to be sequestrated, and Uncle Ralph can hardly get the work done fast enough. My aunt [...]
Oct. 22, 1861.—When I came to breakfast this morning Rob was capering over another victory—Ball’s Bluff. He would read me, “We pitched the Yankees over the bluff,” and ask me in the next breath to go to the theater this evening. I turned on the poor fellow: “Don’t tell me about your victories. You vowed [...]
Sept. 25, 1861. (Home again from “The Pines.”)—When I opened the door of Mrs. F.’s room on my return, the rattle of two sewing-machines and a blaze of color met me. “Ah! G., you are just in time to help us; these are coats for Jeff Thompson’s men. All the cloth in the city is [...]
July 22.—What a day! I feel like one who has been out in a high wind, and cannot get my breath. The news-boys are still shouting with their extras, “Battle of Bull’s Run! List of the killed! Battle of Manassas! List of the wounded!” Tender-hearted Mrs. F. was sobbing so she could not serve the [...]
July 15, 1861.—The quiet of midsummer reigns, but ripples of excitement break around us as the papers tell of skirmishes and attacks here and there in Virginia. “Rich Mountain” and “Carrick’s Ford” were the last. “You see,” said Mrs. D. at breakfast to-day, “my prophecy is coming true that Virginia will be the seat of [...]
June 29.—I attended a fine luncheon yesterday at one of the public schools. A lady remarked to a school official that the cost of provisions in the Confederacy was getting very high, butter, especially, being scarce and costly. “Never fear, my dear madame,” he replied. “Texas alone can furnish butter enough to supply the whole [...]
June 13.—To-day has been appointed a Fast Day. I spent the morning writing a letter on which I put my first Confederate postage-stamp. It is of a brown color and has a large 5 in the center. To-morrow must be devoted to all my foreign correspondents before the expected blockade cuts us off. Note: To [...]
May 27, 1861.—This has been a scenic Sabbath. Various companies about to depart for Virginia occupied the prominent churches to have their flags consecrated. The streets were resonant with the clangor of drums and trumpets. E. and myself went to Christ Church because the Washington Artillery were to be there. Note: To protect Mrs. Miller’s [...]
May 10, 1861.—I am tired and ashamed of myself. Last week I attended a meeting of the lint society to hand in the small contribution of linen I had been able to gather. We scraped lint till it was dark. A paper was shown, entitled the “Volunteer’s Friend,” started by the girls of the high [...]