May 10th.—A letter from a Pharisee who thanks the Lord she is not as other women are; she need not pray, as the Scotch parson did, for a good conceit of herself. She writes, “I feel that I will not be ruined. Come what may, God will provide for me.” But her husband had strengthened [...]
May 4th.—Home again at Bloomsbury. From Chester to Winnsboro we did not see one living thing, man, woman, or animal, except poor William trudging home after his sad disaster. The blooming of the gardens had a funereal effect. Nature is so luxuriant here, she soon covers the ravages of savages. No frost has occurred since [...]
Camden, S. C., May 2, 1865.—Since we left Chester nothing but solitude, nothing but tall blackened chimneys, to show that any man has ever trod this road before. This is Sherman’s track. It is hard not to curse him. I wept incessantly at first. The roses of the gardens are already hiding the ruins. My [...]
May 1st.—In Chester still. I climb these steep steps alone. They have all gone, all passed by. Buck went with Mr. C. Hampton to York. Mary, Mrs. Huger, and Pinckney took flight together. One day just before they began to dissolve in air, Captain Gay was seated at the table, halfway between me on the [...]
April 23d.–My silver wedding-day, and I am sure the unhappiest day of my life. Mr. Portman came with Christopher Hampton. Portman told of Miss Kate Hampton, who is perhaps the most thoroughly ladylike person in the world. When he told her that Lee had surrendered she started up from her seat and said, “That is [...]
April 22d.–This yellow Confederate quire of paper, my journal, blotted by entries, has been buried three days with the silver sugar-dish, teapot, milk-jug, and a few spoons and forks that follow my fortunes as I wander. With these valuables was Hood’s silver cup, which was partly crushed when he was wounded at Chickamauga. It has [...]
April 19th.–Just now, when Mr. Clay dashed up-stairs, pale as a sheet, saying, “General Lee has capitulated,” I saw it reflected in Mary Darby’s face before I heard him speak. She staggered to the table, sat down, and wept aloud. Mr. Clay’s eyes were not dry. Quite beside herself Mary shrieked, “Now we belong to [...]
April 17th.–A letter from Mrs. Davis, who writes: “Do come to me, and see how we get on. I shall have a spare room by the time you arrive, indifferently furnished, but, oh, so affectionately placed at your service. You will receive such a loving welcome. One perfect bliss have I. The baby, who grows [...]
April 7th.–Richmond has fallen and I have no heart to write about it. Grant broke through our lines and Sherman cut through them. Stoneman is this side of Danville. They are too many for us. Everything is lost in Richmond, even our archives. Blue black is our horizon. Hood says we shall all be obliged [...]
April 5th.–Miss Middleton’s letter came in answer to mine, telling her how generous my friends here were to me. “We long,” she says, “for our own small sufficiency of wood, corn, and vegetables. Here is a struggle unto death, although the neighbors continue to feed us, as you would say, ‘with a spoon.’ We have [...]
April 3d.–Saw General Preston ride off. He came to tell me good-by. I told him he looked like a Crusader on his great white horse, with William, his squire, at his heels. Our men are all consummate riders, and have their servants well mounted behind them, carrying cloaks and traps–how different from the same men [...]
March 31st.–Mr. Prioleau Hamilton told us of a great adventure. Mrs. Preston was put under his care on the train. He soon found the only other women along were “strictly unfortunate females,” as Carlyle calls them, beautiful and aggressive. He had to communicate the unpleasant fact to Mrs. Preston, on account of their propinquity, and [...]
March 29th.–I was awakened with a bunch of violets from Mrs. Pride. Violets always remind me of Kate and of the sweet South wind that blew in the garden of paradise part of my life. Then, it all came back: the dread unspeakable that lies behind every thought now. Thursday.–I find I have not spoken [...]
March 27th.–I have moved again, and now I am looking from a window high, with something more to see than the sky. We have the third story of Dr. Da Vega’s house, which opens on the straight street that leads to the railroad about a mile off. Mrs. Bedon is the loveliest of young widows. [...]
March 24th.–I have been ill, but what could you expect? My lines, however, have again fallen in pleasant places. Mrs. Da Vega is young, handsome, and agreeable, a kind and perfect hostess; and as to the house, my room is all that I could ask and leaves nothing to be desired; so very fresh, clean, [...]
Chester, S. C, March 21, 1865. – Another flitting has occurred. Captain Ogden came for me; the splendid Childs was true as steel to the last. Surely he is the kindest of men. Captain Ogden was slightly incredulous when I depicted the wonders of Colonel Childs’s generosity. So I skilfully led out the good gentleman [...]
March 15th.–Lawrence says Miss Chesnut is very proud of the presence of mind and cool self-possession she showed in the face of the enemy. She lost, after all, only two bottles of champagne, two of her brother’s gold-headed canes, and her brother’s horses, including Claudia, the brood mare, that he valued beyond price, and her [...]
March 12th.–Better to-day. A long, long weary day in grief has passed away. I suppose General Chesnut is somewhere–but where? that is the question. Only once has he visited this sad spot, which holds, he says, all that he cares for on earth. Unless he comes or writes soon I will cease, or try to [...]
March 10th.–Went to church crying to Ellen, “It is Lent, we must fast and pray.” When I came home my good fairy, Colonel Childs, had been here bringing rice and potatoes, and promising flour. He is a trump. He pulled out his pocket-book and offered to be my banker. He stood there on the street, [...]
March 8th.–Colonel Childs came with a letter from my husband and a newspaper containing a full account of Sherman’s cold-blooded brutality in Columbia. Then we walked three miles to return the call of my benefactress, Mrs. McDaniel. They were kind and hospitable at her house, but my heart was like lead; my head ached, and [...]
March 6th.–To-day came a godsend. Even a small piece of bread and the molasses had become things of the past. My larder was empty, when a tall mulatto woman brought a tray covered by a huge white serviette. Ellen ushered her in with a flourish, saying, “Mrs. McDaniel’s maid.” The maid set down the tray [...]
March 5th.–Is the sea drying up? Is it going up into mist and coming down on us in a water-spout? The rain, it raineth every day. The weather typifies our tearful despair, on a large scale. It is also Lent now–a quite convenient custom, for we, in truth, have nothing to eat. So we fast [...]
February 29th.1 –Trying to brave it out. They have plenty, yet let our men freeze and starve in their prisons. Would you be willing to be as wicked as they are? A thousand times, no! But we must feed our army first–if we can do so much as that. Our captives need not starve if [...]
February 26th.–Mrs. Munroe offered me religious books, which I declined, being already provided with the Lamentations of Jeremiah, the Psalms of David, the denunciations of Hosea, and, above all, the patient wail of Job. Job is my comforter now. I should be so thankful to know life never would be any worse with me. My [...]
February 25th.–The Pfeifers, who live opposite us here, are descendants of those Pfeifers who came South with Mr. Chesnut’s ancestors after the Fort Duquesne disaster. They have now, therefore, been driven out of their Eden, the valley of Virginia, a second time. The present Pfeifer is the great man, the rich man par excellence of [...]