February ___[1], 1864.—I have found out a good deal about Colonel Capers and all I hear makes me admire him the more. I will try to write this like history, my little Diary, and you must take care of it for future generations.
When Georgia seceded, Henry D. Capers was in command of the Marietta Military Institute. This was one of the best schools in the South. Many fine men had graduated there and some of the very best civil engineers in the Southern army had studied the profession at Marietta.
When the wise men of our country met at Montgomery, to organize a government, Henry D. Capers promptly offered his services, in any capacity where he could be useful. He was accepted and was made Chief Clerk and Disbursing Officer of the Confederate Treasury. Here he served until the spring of 1862, when he resigned, to enter active service in the field. The Treasury Department was loth to give him up and resolutions were drawn up expressing their regret at parting with one, who had proved himself so capable and trustworthy. A fine sword was presented to him by Secretary Memminger, bearing a suitable inscription (the Colonel is wearing this sword now). I intend to read that inscription some day if the fates are propitious.
The War Department made Henry D. Capers a captain in the regular army of the Confederacy and he joined General Magruder but for only a little while. Captain Capers was longing for “his boys,” who were so near his heart. When he left them they all volunteered for twelve months in the Confederate Army and became a part of the 1st Georgia Regiment. This Regiment was about to be disbanded at Augusta, Georgia, and, with a permit from the government, Captain Capers was on the spot, to organize the 12th Georgia Battalion. Can we not imagine his feelings, as one by one “his boys” were sworn in “For the war,” and he realized that they were once more in his keeping? These boys tell many interesting things about their Colonel and they all adore him.
This may not be exactly like history should be written but I will learn to write better as time goes on.
[1] This diary was written in pencil and in many instances the dates are almost, or quite, illegible. The month and year are plain but the figures are not so plain; particularly is this the case during the years of warfare, possibly the pencils were poor, or the paper might have been. At any rate we ask our readers to be lenient if some little mistakes occur.
Susan Bradford is nearly 17 years old when this entry was made.