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diff --git a/old/60908-0.txt b/old/60908-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ee400e7..0000000 --- a/old/60908-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16648 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's A Diary from Dixie, by Mary Boykin Miller Chesnut - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: A Diary from Dixie - As written by Mary Boykin Chesnut, wife of James Chesnut, - Jr., United States Senator from South Carolina, 1859-1861, - and afterward an Aide to Jefferson Davis and a - Brigadier-General in the Confederate Army - -Author: Mary Boykin Miller Chesnut - -Editor: Isabella D. Martin - Myrta Lockett Avary - -Release Date: December 12, 2019 [EBook #60908] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DIARY FROM DIXIE *** - - - - -Produced by MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet -Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - - A DIARY FROM - DIXIE [Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration: MRS. JAMES CHESNUT, JR. - -From a Portrait in Oil.] - - - - - A DIARY FROM - DIXIE, _as written by_ - - MARY BOYKIN CHESNUT, _wife of_ JAMES - CHESNUT, JR., _United States Senator from South - Carolina, 1859-1861, and afterward an Aide - to Jefferson Davis and a Brigadier-General - in the Confederate Army_ - - Edited by - Isabella D. Martin and - Myrta Lockett - Avary - - [Illustration] - - NEW YORK - D. APPLETON AND COMPANY - 1906 - - COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY - D. APPLETON AND COMPANY - - _Published March, 1905_ - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - INTRODUCTION: THE AUTHOR AND HER BOOK xiii - - CHAPTER I.—CHARLESTON, S. C., _November 8, 1860-December 27, 1860_. - - The news of Lincoln’s election—Raising the Palmetto flag—The - author’s husband resigns as United States Senator—The Ordinance - of Secession—Anderson takes possession of Fort Sumter 1 - - CHAPTER II.—MONTGOMERY, Ala., _February 19, 1861-March 11, 1861_. - - Making the Confederate Constitution—Robert Toombs—Anecdote of - General Scott—Lincoln’s trip through Baltimore—Howell Cobb and - Benjamin H. Hill—Hoisting the Confederate flag—Mrs. Lincoln’s - economy in the White House—Hopes for peace—Despondent talk with - anti-secession leaders—The South unprepared—Fort Sumter 6 - - CHAPTER III.—CHARLESTON, S. C., _March 26, 1861-April 15, 1861_. - - A soft-hearted slave-owner—Social gaiety in the midst of war - talk—Beauregard a hero and a demigod—The first shot of the - war—Anderson refuses to capitulate—The bombardment of Fort - Sumter as seen from the house-tops—War steamers arrive in - Charleston harbor—“Bull Run” Russell—Demeanor of the negroes 21 - - CHAPTER IV.—CAMDEN, S. C., _April 20, 1861-April 22, 1861_. - - After Sumter was taken—The _jeunesse dorée_—The story of - Beaufort Watts—Maria Whitaker’s twins—The inconsistencies of - life 42 - - CHAPTER V.—MONTGOMERY, Ala., _April 27, 1861-May 20, 1861_. - - Baltimore in a blaze—Anderson’s account of the surrender of - Fort Sumter—A talk with Alexander H. Stephens—Reports from - Washington—An unexpected reception—Southern leaders take - hopeless views of the future—Planning war measures—Removal of - the capital 47 - - CHAPTER VI.—CHARLESTON, S. C., _May 25, 1861-June 24, 1861_. - - Waiting for a battle in Virginia—Ellsworth at Alexandria—Big - Bethel—Moving forward to the battle-ground—Mr. Petigru against - secession—Mr. Chesnut goes to the front—Russell’s letters to - the London Times 57 - - CHAPTER VII.—RICHMOND, Va., _June 27, 1861-July 4, 1861_. - - Arrival at the new capital—Criticism of Jefferson - Davis—Soldiers everywhere—Mrs. Davis’s drawing-room—A day at - the Champ de Mars—The armies assembling for Bull Run—Col. L. Q. - C. Lamar 68 - - CHAPTER VIII.—FAUQUIER WHITE SULPHUR SPRINGS, Va., _July 6, - 1861-July 11, 1861_. - - Cars crowded with soldiers—A Yankee spy—Anecdotes of - Lincoln—Gaiety in social life—Listening for guns—A horse for - Beauregard 77 - - CHAPTER IX.—RICHMOND, Va., _July 13, 1861-September 2, 1861_. - - General Lee and Joe Johnston—The battle of Bull Run—Colonel - Bartow’s death—Rejoicings and funerals—Anecdotes of - the battle—An interview with Robert E. Lee—Treatment - of prisoners—Toombs thrown from his horse—Criticism of - the Administration—Paying the soldiers—Suspected women - searched—Mason and Slidell 82 - - CHAPTER X.—CAMDEN, S. C., _September 9, 1861-September 19, 1861_. - - The author’s sister, Kate Williams—Old Colonel Chesnut—Roanoke - Island surrenders—Up Country and Low Country—Family silver to - be taken for war expenses—Mary McDuffie Hampton—The Merrimac - and the Monitor 127 - - CHAPTER XI.—COLUMBIA, S. C., _February 20, 1862-July 21, 1862_. - - Dissensions among Southern leaders—Uncle Tom’s - Cabin—Conscription begins—Abuse of Jefferson Davis—The battle - of Shiloh—Beauregard flanked at Nashville—Old Colonel Chesnut - again—New Orleans lost—The battle of Williamsburg—Dinners, - teas, and breakfasts—Wade Hampton at home wounded—Battle of - the Chickahominy—Albert Sidney Johnston’s death—Richmond - in sore straits—A wedding and its tragic ending—Malvern - Hill—Recognition of the Confederacy in Europe 131 - - CHAPTER XII.—FLAT ROCK, N. C., _August 1, 1862-August 8, 1862_. - - A mountain summer resort—George Cuthbert—A disappointed - cavalier—Antietam and Chancellorsville—General Chesnut’s work - for the army 210 - - CHAPTER XIII.—PORTLAND, Ala., _July 8, 1863-July 30, 1863_. - - A journey from Columbia to Southern Alabama—The surrender of - Vicksburg—A terrible night in a swamp on a riverside—A good - pair of shoes—The author at her mother’s home—Anecdotes of - negroes—A Federal Cynic 216 - - CHAPTER XIV.—RICHMOND, Va., _August 10, 1863-September 7, 1863_. - - General Hood in Richmond—A brigade marches through the - town—Rags and tatters—Two love affairs and a wedding—The battle - of Brandy Station—The Robert Barnwell tragedy 229 - - CHAPTER XV.—CAMDEN, S. C., _September 10, 1863-November 5, 1863_. - - A bride’s dressing-table—Home once more at - Mulberry—Longstreet’s army seen going West—Constance and Hetty - Cary—At church during Stoneman’s raid—Richmond narrowly escapes - capture—A battle on the Chickahominy—A picnic at Mulberry 240 - - CHAPTER XVI.—RICHMOND, Va., _November 28, 1863-April 11, 1864_. - - Mr. Davis visits Charleston—Adventures by rail—A - winter of mad gaiety—Weddings, dinner-parties, and - private theatricals—Battles around Chattanooga—Bragg - in disfavor—General Hood and his love affairs—Some - Kentucky generals—Burton Harrison and Miss Constance - Cary—George Eliot—Thackeray’s death—Mrs. R. E. Lee and her - daughters—Richmond almost lost—Colonel Dahlgren’s death—General - Grant—Depreciated currency—Fourteen generals at church 252 - - CHAPTER XVII.—CAMDEN, S. C., _May 8, 1864-June 1, 1864_. - - A farewell to Richmond—“Little Joe’s” pathetic death - and funeral—An old silk dress—The battle of the - Wilderness—Spottsylvania Court House—At Mulberry once more—Old - Colonel Chesnut’s grief at his wife’s death 304 - - CHAPTER XVIII.—COLUMBIA, S. C., _July 6, 1864-January 17, 1865_. - - Gen. Joe Johnston superseded and the Alabama sunk—The author’s - new home—Sherman at Atlanta—The battle of Mobile Bay—At - the hospital in Columbia—Wade Hampton’s two sons shot—Hood - crushed at Nashville—Farewell to Mulberry—Sherman’s advance - eastward—The end near 313 - - CHAPTER XIX.—LINCOLNTON, N. C., _February 16, 1865-March 15, 1865_. - - The flight from Columbia—A corps of generals without - troops—Broken-hearted and an exile—Taken for millionaires—A - walk with Gen. Joseph E. Johnston—The burning of - Columbia—Confederate money refused in the shops—Selling old - clothes to obtain food—Gen. Joe Johnston and President Davis - again—Braving it out—Mulberry saved by a faithful negro—Ordered - to Chester, S. C. 344 - - CHAPTER XX.—CHESTER, S. C., _March 21, 1865-May 1, 1865_. - - How to live without money—Keeping house once more—Other - refugees tell stories of their flight—The Hood melodrama - over—The exodus from Richmond—Passengers in a box car—A visit - from General Hood—The fall of Richmond—Lee’s surrender—Yankees - hovering around—In pursuit of President Davis 367 - - CHAPTER XXI.—CAMDEN, S. C., _May 2, 1865-August 2, 1865_. - - Once more at Bloomsbury—Surprising fidelity of negroes—Stories - of escape—Federal soldiers who plundered old estates—Mulberry - partly in ruins—Old Colonel Chesnut last of the grand - seigniors—Two classes of sufferers—A wedding and a - funeral—Blood not shed in vain 384 - - INDEX 405 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - FACING - PAGE - - MRS. JAMES CHESNUT, JR. _Frontispiece_ - - From a Portrait in Oil. Reproduced by courtesy of the owner, - Mr. David R. Williams, of Camden, S. C. - - A PAGE OF THE DIARY IN FACSIMILE xxii - - THE OLD BAPTIST CHURCH IN COLUMBIA, S. C. 4 - - Here First Met the South Carolina Secession Convention. - - VIEW OF CHARLESTON DURING THE WAR 22 - - From an Old Print. - - FORT SUMTER UNDER BOMBARDMENT 38 - - From an Old Print. - - A GROUP OF CONFEDERATE GENERALS 94 - - Robert E. Lee, Joseph E. Johnston, Albert Sidney Johnston, - “Stonewall” Jackson, John B. Hood, and Pierre G. T. Beauregard. - - MULBERRY HOUSE, NEAR CAMDEN, S. C. 128 - - From a Recent Photograph. - - A GROUP OF CONFEDERATE WOMEN 148 - - Mrs. Jefferson Davis, Mrs. Francis W. Pickens, Mrs. Louisa S. - McCord, Miss S. B. C. Preston, Mrs. David R. Williams (the - author’s sister Kate), Miss Isabella D. Martin. - - ANOTHER GROUP OF CONFEDERATE GENERALS 230 - - Robert Toombs, John H. Morgan, John C. Preston, Joseph B. - Kershaw, James Chesnut, Jr., Wade Hampton. - - THE DAVIS MANSION IN RICHMOND, THE “WHITE HOUSE” OF THE - CONFEDERACY 264 - - Now the Confederate Museum. - - MRS. JAMES CHESNUT, SR. 310 - - From a Portrait in Oil by Gilbert Stuart. Reproduced by - courtesy of the owner, Mr. David R. Williams, of Camden, S. C. - - MRS. CHESNUT’S HOME IN COLUMBIA IN THE LAST YEAR OF THE WAR 314 - - Here Mrs. Chesnut entertained Jefferson Davis. - - RUINS OF MILLWOOD, WADE HAMPTON’S ANCESTRAL HOME 350 - - From a Recent Photograph. - - A NEWSPAPER “EXTRA” 380 - - Issued in Chester, S. C., and Announcing the Assassination of - Lincoln. - - COL. JAMES CHESNUT, SR. 390 - - From a Portrait in Oil by Gilbert Stuart. Reproduced by - courtesy of the owner, Mr. David R. Williams, of Camden, S. C. - - SARSFIELD, NEAR CAMDEN, S. C. 402 - - Built by General Chesnut after the War, and the Home of himself - and Mrs. Chesnut until they Died. From a Recent Photograph. - - - - -INTRODUCTION - -THE AUTHOR AND HER BOOK - - -In Mrs. Chesnut’s Diary are vivid pictures of the social life that went -on uninterruptedly in the midst of war; of the economic conditions that -resulted from blockaded ports; of the manner in which the spirits of the -people rose and fell with each victory or defeat, and of the momentous -events that took place in Charleston, Montgomery, and Richmond. But the -Diary has an importance quite apart from the interest that lies in these -pictures. - -Mrs. Chesnut was close to forty years of age when the war began, and thus -had lived through the most stirring scenes in the controversies that led -to it. In this Diary, as perhaps nowhere else in the literature of the -war, will be found the Southern spirit of that time expressed in words -which are not alone charming as literature, but genuinely human in their -spontaneousness, their delightfully unconscious frankness. Her words are -the farthest possible removed from anything deliberate, academic, or -purely intellectual. They ring so true that they start echoes. The most -uncompromising Northern heart can scarcely fail to be moved by their -abounding sincerity, surcharged though it be with that old Southern fire -which overwhelmed the army of McDowell at Bull Run. - -In making more clear the unyielding tenacity of the South and the stern -conditions in which the war was prosecuted, the Diary has further -importance. At the beginning there was no Southern leader, in so far as -we can gather from Mrs. Chesnut’s reports of her talks with them, who -had any hope that the South would win in the end, provided the North -should be able to enlist her full resources. The result, however, was -that the South struck something like terror to many hearts, and raised -serious expectations that two great European powers would recognize her -independence. The South fought as long as she had any soldiers left who -were capable of fighting, and at last “robbed the cradle and the grave.” -Nothing then remained except to “wait for another generation to grow up.” -The North, so far as her stock of men of fighting age was concerned, had -done scarcely more than make a beginning, while the South was virtually -exhausted when the war was half over. - -Unlike the South, the North was never reduced to extremities which led -the wives of Cabinet officers and commanding generals to gather in -Washington hotels and private drawing-rooms, in order to knit heavy -socks for soldiers whose feet otherwise would go bare: scenes like these -were common in Richmond, and Mrs. Chesnut often made one of the company. -Nor were gently nurtured women of the North forced to wear coarse and -ill-fitting shoes, such as negro cobblers made, the alternative being to -dispense with shoes altogether. Gold might rise in the North to 2.80, but -there came a time in the South when a thousand dollars in paper money -were needed to buy a kitchen utensil, which before the war could have -been bought for less than one dollar in gold. Long before the conflict -ended it was a common remark in the South that, “in going to market, you -take your money in your basket, and bring your purchases home in your -pocket.” - -In the North the counterpart to these facts were such items as butter -at 50 cents a pound and flour at $12 a barrel. People in the North -actually thrived on high prices. Villages and small towns, as well as -large cities, had their “bloated bondholders” in plenty, while farmers -everywhere were able to clear their lands of mortgages and put money in -the bank besides. Planters in the South, meanwhile, were borrowing money -to support the negroes in idleness at home, while they themselves were -fighting at the front. Old Colonel Chesnut, the author’s father-in-law, -in April, 1862, estimated that he had already lost half a million in bank -stock and railroad bonds. When the war closed, he had borrowed such large -sums himself and had such large sums due to him from others, that he saw -no likelihood of the obligations on either side ever being discharged. - -Mrs. Chesnut wrote her Diary from day to day, as the mood or an occasion -prompted her to do so. The fortunes of war changed the place of her abode -almost as frequently as the seasons changed, but wherever she might -be the Diary was continued. She began to write in Charleston when the -Convention was passing the Ordinance of Secession. Thence she went to -Montgomery, Ala., where the Confederacy was organized and Jefferson Davis -was inaugurated as its President. She went to receptions where, sitting -aside on sofas with Davis, Stephens, Toombs, Cobb, or Hunter, she talked -of the probable outcome of the war, should war come, setting down in -her Diary what she heard from others and all that she thought herself. -Returning to Charleston, where her husband, in a small boat, conveyed to -Major Anderson the ultimatum of the Governor of South Carolina, she saw -from a housetop the first act of war committed in the bombardment of Fort -Sumter. During the ensuing four years, Mrs. Chesnut’s time was mainly -passed between Columbia and Richmond. For shorter periods she was at the -Fauquier White Sulphur Springs in Virginia, Flat Rock in North Carolina, -Portland in Alabama (the home of her mother), Camden and Chester in South -Carolina, and Lincolnton in North Carolina. - -In all these places Mrs. Chesnut was in close touch with men and women -who were in the forefront of the social, military, and political life -of the South. Those who live in her pages make up indeed a catalogue of -the heroes of the Confederacy—President Jefferson Davis, Vice-President -Alexander H. Stephens, General Robert E. Lee, General “Stonewall” -Jackson, General Joseph E. Johnston, General Pierre G. T. Beauregard, -General Wade Hampton, General Joseph B. Kershaw, General John B. Hood, -General John S. Preston, General Robert Toombs, R. M. T. Hunter, Judge -Louis T. Wigfall, and so many others that one almost hears the roll-call. -That this statement is not exaggerated may be judged from a glance at -the index, which has been prepared with a view to the inclusion of all -important names mentioned in the text. - -As her Diary constantly shows, Mrs. Chesnut was a woman of society in the -best sense. She had love of companionship, native wit, an acute mind, -knowledge of books, and a searching insight into the motives of men and -women. She was also a notable housewife, much given to hospitality; and -her heart was of the warmest and tenderest, as those who knew her well -bore witness. - - * * * * * - -Mary Boykin Miller, born March 31, 1823, was the daughter of Stephen -Decatur Miller, a man of distinction in the public affairs of South -Carolina. Mr. Miller was elected to Congress in 1817, became Governor -in 1828, and was chosen United States Senator in 1830. He was a strong -supporter of the Nullification movement. In 1833, owing to ill-health, -he resigned his seat in the Senate and not long afterward removed to -Mississippi, where he engaged in cotton planting until his death, in -March, 1838. - -His daughter, Mary, was married to James Chesnut, Jr., April 23, 1840, -when seventeen years of age. Thenceforth her home was mainly at Mulberry, -near Camden, one of several plantations owned by her father-in-law. Of -the domestic life at Mulberry a pleasing picture has come down to us, as -preserved in a time-worn scrap-book and written some years before the war: - - “In our drive of about three miles to Mulberry, we were struck - with the wealth of forest trees along our way for which the - environs of Camden are noted. Here is a bridge completely - canopied with overarching branches; and, for the remainder of - our journey, we pass through an aromatic avenue of crab-trees - with the Yellow Jessamine and the Cherokee rose, entwining - every shrub, post, and pillar within reach and lending an - almost tropical luxuriance and sweetness to the way. - - “But here is the house—a brick building, capacious and - massive, a house that is a home for a large family, one of - the homesteads of the olden times, where home comforts and - blessings cluster, sacred alike for its joys and its sorrows. - Birthdays, wedding-days, ‘Merry Christmases,’ departures for - school and college, and home returnings have enriched this - abode with the treasures of life. - - “A warm welcome greets us as we enter. The furniture within is - in keeping with things without; nothing is tawdry; there is no - gingerbread gilding; all is handsome and substantial. In the - ‘old arm-chair’ sits the venerable mother. The father is on his - usual ride about the plantation; but will be back presently. A - lovely old age is this mother’s, calm and serene, as the soft - mellow days of our own gentle autumn. She came from the North - to the South many years ago, a fair young bride. - - “The Old Colonel enters. He bears himself erect, walks at a - brisk gait, and needs no spectacles, yet he is over eighty. - He is a typical Southern planter. From the beginning he has - been one of the most intelligent patrons of the Wateree Mission - to the Negroes, taking a personal interest in them, attending - the mission church and worshiping with his own people. May his - children see to it that this holy charity is continued to their - servants forever!” - -James Chesnut, Jr., was the son and heir of Colonel James Chesnut, whose -wife was Mary Coxe, of Philadelphia. Mary Coxe’s sister married Horace -Binney, the eminent Philadelphia lawyer. James Chesnut, Jr., was born in -1815 and graduated from Princeton. For fourteen years he served in the -legislature of South Carolina, and in January, 1859, was appointed to -fill a vacancy in the United States Senate. In November, 1860, when South -Carolina was about to secede, he resigned from the Senate and thenceforth -was active in the Southern cause, first as an aide to General Beauregard, -then as an aide to President Davis, and finally as a brigadier-general of -reserves in command of the coast of South Carolina. - -General Chesnut was active in public life in South Carolina after the -war, in so far as the circumstances of Reconstruction permitted, and in -1868 was a delegate from that State to the National convention which -nominated Horatio Seymour for President. His death occurred at Sarsfield, -February 1, 1885. One who knew him well wrote: - - “While papers were teeming with tribute to this knightly - gentleman, whose services to his State were part of her history - in her prime—tribute that did him no more than justice, in - recounting his public virtues—I thought there was another phase - of his character which the world did not know and the press did - not chronicle—that which showed his beautiful kindness and his - courtesy to his own household, and especially to his dependents. - - “Among all the preachers of the South Carolina Conference, a - few remained of those who ever counted it as one of the highest - honors conferred upon them by their Lord that it was permitted - to them to preach the gospel to the slaves of the Southern - plantations. Some of these retained kind recollections of the - cordial hospitality shown the plantation missionary at Mulberry - and Sandy Hill, and of the care taken at these places that the - plantation chapel should be neat and comfortable, and that the - slaves should have their spiritual as well as their bodily - needs supplied. - - “To these it was no matter of surprise to learn that at his - death General Chesnut, statesman and soldier, was surrounded - by faithful friends, born in slavery on his own plantation, - and that the last prayer he ever heard came from the lips of a - negro man, old Scipio, his father’s body-servant; and that he - was borne to his grave amid the tears and lamentations of those - whom no Emancipation Proclamation could sever from him, and who - cried aloud: ‘O my master! my master! he was so good to me! He - was all to us! We have lost our best friend!’ - - “Mrs. Chesnut’s anguish when her husband died, is not to be - forgotten; the ‘bitter cry’ never quite spent itself, though - she was brave and bright to the end. Her friends were near in - that supreme moment at Sarsfield, when, on November 22, 1886, - her own heart ceased to beat. Her servants had been true to - her; no blandishments of freedom had drawn Ellen or Molly away - from ‘Miss Mary.’ Mrs. Chesnut lies buried in the family - cemetery at Knight’s Hill, where also sleep her husband and - many other members of the Chesnut family.” - -The Chesnuts settled in South Carolina at the close of the war with -France, but lived originally on the frontier of Virginia. Their Virginia -home had been invaded by French and Indians, and in an expedition to Fort -Duquesne the father was killed. John Chesnut removed from Virginia to -South Carolina soon afterward and served in the Revolution as a captain. -His son James, the “Old Colonel,” was educated at Princeton, took an -active part in public affairs in South Carolina, and prospered greatly -as a planter. He survived until after the War, being a nonogenarian when -the conflict closed. In a charming sketch of him in one of the closing -pages of this Diary, occurs the following passage: “Colonel Chesnut, -now ninety-three, blind and deaf, is apparently as strong as ever, and -certainly as resolute of will. Partly patriarch, partly grand seigneur, -this old man is of a species that we shall see no more; the last of a -race of lordly planters who ruled this Southern world, but now a splendid -wreck.” - -Three miles from Camden still stands Mulberry. During one of the raids -committed in the neighborhood by Sherman’s men early in 1865, the house -escaped destruction almost as if by accident. The picture of it in this -book is from a recent photograph. A change has indeed come over it, since -the days when the household servants and dependents numbered between -sixty and seventy, and its owner was lord of a thousand slaves. After the -war, Mulberry ceased to be the author’s home, she and General Chesnut -building for themselves another to which they gave the name of Sarsfield. -Sarsfield, of which an illustration is given, still stands in the pine -lands not far from Mulberry. Bloomsbury, another of old Colonel Chesnut’s -plantation dwellings, survived the march of Sherman, and is now the home -of David R. Williams, Jr., and Ellen Manning, his wife, whose children -roam its halls, as grandchildren of the author’s sister Kate. Other -Chesnut plantations were Cool Spring, Knight’s Hill, The Hermitage, and -Sandy Hill. - -The Diary, as it now exists in forty-eight thin volumes, of the small -quarto size, is entirely in Mrs. Chesnut’s handwriting. She originally -wrote it on what was known as “Confederate paper,” but transcribed it -afterward. When Richmond was threatened, or when Sherman was coming, she -buried it or in some other way secreted it from the enemy. On occasion -it shared its hiding-place with family silver, or with a drinking-cup -which had been presented to General Hood by the ladies of Richmond. -Mrs. Chesnut was fond of inserting on blank pages of the Diary current -newspaper accounts of campaigns and battles, or lists of killed and -wounded. One item of this kind, a newspaper “extra,” issued in Chester, -S. C., and announcing the assassination of Lincoln, is reproduced in this -volume. - -Mrs. Chesnut, by oral and written bequest, gave the Diary to her friend -whose name leads the signatures to this Introduction. In the Diary, here -and there, Mrs. Chesnut’s expectation that the work would some day be -printed is disclosed, but at the time of her death it did not seem wise -to undertake publication for a considerable period. Yellow with age as -the pages now are, the only harm that has come to them in the passing of -many years, is that a few corners have been broken and frayed, as shown -in one of the pages here reproduced in facsimile. - -In the summer of 1904, the woman whose office it has been to assist -in preparing the Diary for the press, went South to collect material -for another work to follow her A Virginia Girl in the Civil War. -Her investigations led her to Columbia, where, while the guest of -Miss Martin, she learned of the Diary’s existence. Soon afterward -an arrangement was made with her publishers under which the Diary’s -owner and herself agreed to condense and revise the manuscript -for publication. The Diary was found to be of too great length for -reproduction in full, parts of it being of personal or local interest -rather than general. The editing of the book called also for the -insertion of a considerable number of foot-notes, in order that persons -named, or events referred to, might be the better understood by the -present generation. - -Mrs. Chesnut was a conspicuous example of the well-born and high-bred -woman, who, with active sympathy and unremitting courage, supported the -Southern cause. Born and reared when Nullification was in the ascendent, -and acquiring an education which developed and refined her natural -literary gifts, she found in the throes of a great conflict at arms -the impulse which wrought into vital expression in words her steadfast -loyalty to the waning fortunes of a political faith, which, in South -Carolina, had become a religion. - -Many men have produced narratives of the war between the States, and -a few women have written notable chronicles of it; but none has given -to the world a record more radiant than hers, or one more passionately -sincere. Every line in this Diary throbs with the tumult of deep -spiritual passion, and bespeaks the luminous mind, the unconquered soul, -of the woman who wrote it. - - ISABELLA D. MARTIN, - MYRTA LOCKETT AVARY. - - - - -[Illustration: A PAGE OF THE DIARY IN FACSIMILE.] - - - - -I - -CHARLESTON, S. C. - -_November 8, 1860-December 27, 1860_ - - -Charleston, S. C., _November 8, 1860_.—Yesterday on the train, just -before we reached Fernandina, a woman called out: “That settles the -hash.” Tanny touched me on the shoulder and said: “Lincoln’s elected.” -“How do you know?” “The man over there has a telegram.” - -The excitement was very great. Everybody was talking at the same time. -One, a little more moved than the others, stood up and said despondently: -“The die is cast; no more vain regrets; sad forebodings are useless; the -stake is life or death.” “Did you ever!” was the prevailing exclamation, -and some one cried out: “Now that the black radical Republicans have the -power I suppose they will Brown[1] us all.” No doubt of it. - -I have always kept a journal after a fashion of my own, with dates and a -line of poetry or prose, mere quotations, which I understood and no one -else, and I have kept letters and extracts from the papers. From to-day -forward I will tell the story in my own way. I now wish I had a chronicle -of the two delightful and eventful years that have just passed. Those -delights have fled and one’s breath is taken away to think what events -have since crowded in. Like the woman’s record in her journal, we have -had “earthquakes, as usual”—daily shocks. - -At Fernandina I saw young men running up a Palmetto flag, and shouting a -little prematurely, “South Carolina has seceded!” I was overjoyed to find -Florida so sympathetic, but Tanny told me the young men were Gadsdens, -Porchers, and Gourdins,[2] names as inevitably South Carolinian as Moses -and Lazarus are Jewish. - -From my window I can hear a grand and mighty flow of eloquence. Bartow -and a delegation from Savannah are having a supper given to them in the -dining-room below. The noise of the speaking and cheering is pretty hard -on a tired traveler. Suddenly I found myself listening with pleasure. -Voice, tone, temper, sentiment, language, all were perfect. I sent Tanny -to see who it was that spoke. He came back saying, “Mr. Alfred Huger, the -old postmaster.” He may not have been the wisest or wittiest man there, -but he certainly made the best after-supper speech. - -_December 10th._—We have been up to the Mulberry Plantation with -Colonel Colcock and Judge Magrath, who were sent to Columbia by their -fellow-citizens in the low country, to hasten the slow movement of the -wisdom assembled in the State Capital. Their message was, they said: -“Go ahead, dissolve the Union, and be done with it, or it will be worse -for you. The fire in the rear is hottest.” And yet people talk of the -politicians leading! Everywhere that I have been people have been -complaining bitterly of slow and lukewarm public leaders. - -Judge Magrath is a local celebrity, who has been stretched across the -street in effigy, showing him tearing off his robes of office. The -painting is in vivid colors, the canvas huge, and the rope hardly -discernible. He is depicted with a countenance flaming with contending -emotions—rage, disgust, and disdain. We agreed that the time had now -come. We had talked so much heretofore. Let the fire-eaters have it -out. Massachusetts and South Carolina are always coming up before the -footlights. - -As a woman, of course, it is easy for me to be brave under the skins of -other people; so I said: “Fight it out. Bluffton[3] has brought on a -fever that only bloodletting will cure.” My companions breathed fire and -fury, but I dare say they were amusing themselves with my dismay, for, -talk as I would, that I could not hide. - -At Kingsville we encountered James Chesnut, fresh from Columbia, where -he had resigned his seat in the United States Senate the day before. -Said some one spitefully, “Mrs. Chesnut does not look at all resigned.” -For once in her life, Mrs. Chesnut held her tongue: she was dumb. In the -high-flown style which of late seems to have gotten into the very air, -she was offering up her life to the cause. - -We have had a brief pause. The men who are all, like Pickens,[4] -“insensible to fear,” are very sensible in case of small-pox. There -being now an epidemic of small-pox in Columbia, they have adjourned to -Charleston. In Camden we were busy and frantic with excitement, drilling, -marching, arming, and wearing high blue cockades. Red sashes, guns, and -swords were ordinary fireside accompaniments. So wild were we, I saw at -a grand parade of the home-guard a woman, the wife of a man who says he -is a secessionist _per se_, driving about to see the drilling of this new -company, although her father was buried the day before. - -Edward J. Pringle writes me from San Francisco on November 30th: “I see -that Mr. Chesnut has resigned and that South Carolina is hastening -into a Convention, perhaps to secession. Mr. Chesnut is probably to be -President of the Convention. I see all of the leaders in the State are -in favor of secession. But I confess I hope the black Republicans will -take the alarm and submit some treaty of peace that will enable us now -and forever to settle the question, and save our generation from the -prostration of business and the decay of prosperity that must come both -to the North and South from a disruption of the Union. However, I won’t -speculate. Before this reaches you, South Carolina may be off on her own -hook—a separate republic.” - -_December 21st._—Mrs. Charles Lowndes was sitting with us to-day, when -Mrs. Kirkland brought in a copy of the Secession Ordinance. I wonder if -my face grew as white as hers. She said after a moment: “God help us. As -our day, so shall our strength be.” How grateful we were for this pious -ejaculation of hers! They say I had better take my last look at this -beautiful place, Combahee. It is on the coast, open to gunboats. - -We mean business this time, because of this convocation of the notables, -this convention.[5] In it are all our wisest and best. They really have -tried to send the ablest men, the good men and true. South Carolina was -never more splendidly represented. Patriotism aside, it makes society -delightful. One need not regret having left Washington. - -[Illustration: THE OLD BAPTIST CHURCH IN COLUMBIA, S. C. - -Here First Met the South Carolina Secession Convention.] - -_December 27th._—Mrs. Gidiere came in quietly from her marketing to-day, -and in her neat, incisive manner exploded this bombshell: “Major -Anderson[6] has moved into Fort Sumter, while Governor Pickens slept -serenely.” The row is fast and furious now. State after State is taking -its forts and fortresses. They say if we had been left out in the cold -alone, we might have sulked a while, but back we would have had to go, -and would merely have fretted and fumed and quarreled among ourselves. -We needed a little wholesome neglect. Anderson has blocked that game, -but now our sister States have joined us, and we are strong. I give the -condensed essence of the table-talk: “Anderson has united the cotton -States. Now for Virginia!” “Anderson has opened the ball.” Those who want -a row are in high glee. Those who dread it are glum and thoughtful enough. - -A letter from Susan Rutledge: “Captain Humphrey folded the United States -Army flag just before dinner-time. Ours was run up in its place. You know -the Arsenal is in sight. What is the next move? I pray God to guide us. -We stand in need of wise counsel; something more than courage. The talk -is: ‘Fort Sumter must be taken; and it is one of the strongest forts.’ -How in the name of sense are they to manage? I shudder to think of rash -moves.” - - - - -II - -MONTGOMERY, ALA. - -_February 19, 1861-March 11, 1861_ - - -Montgomery, Ala., _February 19, 1861_.—The brand-new Confederacy is -making or remodeling its Constitution. Everybody wants Mr. Davis to be -General-in-Chief or President. Keitt and Boyce and a party preferred -Howell Cobb[7] for President. And the fire-eaters _per se_ wanted -Barnwell Rhett. - -My brother Stephen brought the officers of the “Montgomery Blues” to -dinner. “Very soiled Blues,” they said, apologizing for their rough -condition. Poor fellows! they had been a month before Fort Pickens and -not allowed to attack it. They said Colonel Chase built it, and so were -sure it was impregnable. Colonel Lomax telegraphed to Governor Moore[8] -if he might try to take it, “Chase or no Chase,” and got for his answer, -“No.” “And now,” say the Blues, “we have worked like niggers, and when -the fun and fighting begin, they send us home and put regulars there.” -They have an immense amount of powder. The wheel of the car in which it -was carried took fire. There was an escape for you! We are packing a -hamper of eatables for them. - -I am despondent once more. If I thought them in earnest because at first -they put their best in front, what now? We have to meet tremendous odds -by pluck, activity, zeal, dash, endurance of the toughest, military -instinct. We have had to choose born leaders of men who could attract -love and secure trust. Everywhere political intrigue is as rife as in -Washington. - -Cecil’s saying of Sir Walter Raleigh that he could “toil terribly” was an -electric touch. Above all, let the men who are to save South Carolina be -young and vigorous. While I was reflecting on what kind of men we ought -to choose, I fell on Clarendon, and it was easy to construct my man out -of his portraits. What has been may be again, so the men need not be -purely ideal types. - -Mr. Toombs[9] told us a story of General Scott and himself. He said he -was dining in Washington with Scott, who seasoned every dish and every -glass of wine with the eternal refrain, “Save the Union; the Union must -be preserved.” Toombs remarked that he knew why the Union was so dear -to the General, and illustrated his point by a steamboat anecdote, an -explosion, of course. While the passengers were struggling in the water -a woman ran up and down the bank crying, “Oh, save the red-headed man!” -The red-headed man was saved, and his preserver, after landing him -noticed with surprise how little interest in him the woman who had made -such moving appeals seemed to feel. He asked her, “Why did you make that -pathetic outcry?” She answered, “Oh, he owes me ten thousand dollars.” -“Now, General,” said Toombs, “the Union owes you seventeen thousand -dollars a year!” I can imagine the scorn on old Scott’s face. - -_February 25th._—Find every one working very hard here. As I dozed on the -sofa last night, could hear the scratch, scratch of my husband’s pen as -he wrote at the table until midnight. - -After church to-day, Captain Ingraham called. He left me so -uncomfortable. He dared to express regrets that he had to leave the -United States Navy. He had been stationed in the Mediterranean, where he -liked to be, and expected to be these two years, and to take those lovely -daughters of his to Florence. Then came Abraham Lincoln, and rampant -black Republicanism, and he must lay down his life for South Carolina. -He, however, does not make any moan. He says we lack everything necessary -in naval gear to retake Fort Sumter. Of course, he only expects the navy -to take it. He is a fish out of water here. He is one of the finest -sea-captains; so I suppose they will soon give him a ship and send him -back to his own element. - -At dinner Judge —— was loudly abusive of Congress. He said: “They have -trampled the Constitution underfoot. They have provided President Davis -with a house.” He was disgusted with the folly of parading the President -at the inauguration in a coach drawn by four white horses. Then some one -said Mrs. Fitzpatrick was the only lady who sat with the Congress. After -the inaugural she poked Jeff Davis in the back with her parasol that he -might turn and speak to her. “I am sure that was democratic enough,” said -some one. - -Governor Moore came in with the latest news—a telegram from Governor -Pickens to the President, “that a war steamer is lying off the Charleston -bar laden with reenforcements for Fort Sumter, and what must we do?” -Answer: “Use your own discretion!” There is faith for you, after all is -said and done. It is believed there is still some discretion left in -South Carolina fit for use. - -Everybody who comes here wants an office, and the many who, of course, -are disappointed raise a cry of corruption against the few who are -successful. I thought we had left all that in Washington. Nobody is -willing to be out of sight, and all will take office. - -“Constitution” Browne says he is going to Washington for twenty-four -hours. I mean to send by him to Mary Garnett for a bonnet ribbon. If they -take him up as a traitor, he may cause a civil war. War is now our dread. -Mr. Chesnut told him not to make himself a bone of contention. - -Everybody means to go into the army. If Sumter is attacked, then Jeff -Davis’s troubles will begin. The Judge says a military despotism would be -best for us—anything to prevent a triumph of the Yankees. All right, but -every man objects to any despot but himself. - -Mr. Chesnut, in high spirits, dines to-day with the Louisiana delegation. -Breakfasted with “Constitution” Browne, who is appointed Assistant -Secretary of State, and so does not go to Washington. There was at -table the man who advertised for a wife, with the wife so obtained. She -was not pretty. We dine at Mr. Pollard’s and go to a ball afterward at -Judge Bibb’s. The New York Herald says Lincoln stood before Washington’s -picture at his inauguration, which was taken by the country as a good -sign. We are always frantic for a good sign. Let us pray that a Cæsar or -a Napoleon may be sent us. That would be our best sign of success. But -they still say, “No war.” Peace let it be, kind Heaven! - -Dr. De Leon called, fresh from Washington, and says General Scott is -using all his power and influence to prevent officers from the South -resigning their commissions, among other things promising that they shall -never be sent against us in case of war. Captain Ingraham, in his short, -curt way, said: “That will never do. If they take their government’s pay -they must do its fighting.” - -A brilliant dinner at the Pollards’s. Mr. Barnwell[10] took me down. Came -home and found the Judge and Governor Moore waiting to go with me to -the Bibbs’s. And they say it is dull in Montgomery! Clayton, fresh from -Washington, was at the party and told us “there was to be peace.” - -_February 28th._—In the drawing-room a literary lady began a violent -attack upon this mischief-making South Carolina. She told me she was -a successful writer in the magazines of the day, but when I found she -used “incredible” for “incredulous,” I said not a word in defense of my -native land. I left her “incredible.” Another person came in, while she -was pouring upon me her home troubles, and asked if she did not know I -was a Carolinian. Then she gracefully reversed her engine, and took the -other tack, sounding our praise, but I left her incredible and I remained -incredulous, too. - -Brewster says the war specks are growing in size. Nobody at the North, -or in Virginia, believes we are in earnest. They think we are sulking -and that Jeff Davis and Stephens[11] are getting up a very pretty little -comedy. The Virginia delegates were insulted at the peace conference; -Brewster said, “kicked out.” - -The Judge thought Jefferson Davis rude to him when the latter was -Secretary of War. Mr. Chesnut persuaded the Judge to forego his private -wrong for the public good, and so he voted for him, but now his old -grudge has come back with an increased venomousness. What a pity to bring -the spites of the old Union into this new one! It seems to me already men -are willing to risk an injury to our cause, if they may in so doing hurt -Jeff Davis. - -_March 1st._—Dined to-day with Mr. Hill[12] from Georgia, and his wife. -After he left us she told me he was the celebrated individual who, for -Christian scruples, refused to fight a duel with Stephens.[13] She seemed -very proud of him for his conduct in the affair. Ignoramus that I am, I -had not heard of it. I am having all kinds of experiences. Drove to-day -with a lady who fervently wished her husband would go down to Pensacola -and be shot. I was dumb with amazement, of course. Telling my story to -one who knew the parties, was informed, “Don’t you know he beats her?” -So I have seen a man “who lifts his hand against a woman in aught save -kindness.” - -Brewster says Lincoln passed through Baltimore disguised, and at night, -and that he did well, for just now Baltimore is dangerous ground. He -says that he hears from all quarters that the vulgarity of Lincoln, his -wife, and his son is beyond credence, a thing you must see before you can -believe it. Senator Stephen A. Douglas told Mr. Chesnut that “Lincoln is -awfully clever, and that he had found him a heavy handful.” - -Went to pay my respects to Mrs. Jefferson Davis. She met me with open -arms. We did not allude to anything by which we are surrounded. We -eschewed politics and our changed relations. - -_March 3d._—Everybody in fine spirits in my world. They have one and -all spoken in the Congress[14] to their own perfect satisfaction. To my -amazement the Judge took me aside, and, after delivering a panegyric upon -himself (but here, later, comes in the amazement), he praised my husband -to the skies, and said he was the fittest man of all for a foreign -mission. Aye; and the farther away they send us from this Congress the -better I will like it. - -Saw Jere Clemens and Nick Davis, social curiosities. They are -Anti-Secession leaders; then George Sanders and George Deas. The Georges -are of opinion that it is folly to try to take back Fort Sumter from -Anderson and the United States; that is, before we are ready. They saw -in Charleston the devoted band prepared for the sacrifice; I mean, ready -to run their heads against a stone wall. Dare devils they are. They have -dash and courage enough, but science only could take that fort. They -shook their heads. - -_March 4th._—The Washington Congress has passed peace measures. Glory be -to God (as my Irish Margaret used to preface every remark, both great and -small). - -At last, according to his wish, I was able to introduce Mr. Hill, of -Georgia, to Mr. Mallory,[15] and also Governor Moore and Brewster, the -latter the only man without a title of some sort that I know in this -democratic subdivided republic. - -I have seen a negro woman sold on the block at auction. She overtopped -the crowd. I was walking and felt faint, seasick. The creature looked so -like my good little Nancy, a bright mulatto with a pleasant face. She was -magnificently gotten up in silks and satins. She seemed delighted with -it all, sometimes ogling the bidders, sometimes looking quiet, coy, and -modest, but her mouth never relaxed from its expanded grin of excitement. -I dare say the poor thing knew who would buy her. I sat down on a stool -in a shop and disciplined my wild thoughts. I tried it Sterne fashion. -You know how women sell themselves and are sold in marriage from queens -downward, eh? You know what the Bible says about slavery and marriage; -poor women! poor slaves! Sterne, with his starling—what did he know? He -only thought, he did not feel. - -In Evan Harrington I read: “Like a true English female, she believed in -her own inflexible virtue, but never trusted her husband out of sight.” - -The New York Herald says: “Lincoln’s carriage is not bomb-proof; so he -does not drive out.” Two flags and a bundle of sticks have been sent him -as gentle reminders. The sticks are to break our heads with. The English -are gushingly unhappy as to our family quarrel. Magnanimous of them, for -it is their opportunity. - -_March 5th._—We stood on the balcony to see our Confederate flag go up. -Roars of cannon, etc., etc. Miss Sanders complained (so said Captain -Ingraham) of the deadness of the mob. “It was utterly spiritless,” -she said; “no cheering, or so little, and no enthusiasm.” Captain -Ingraham suggested that gentlemen “are apt to be quiet,” and this was “a -thoughtful crowd, the true mob element with us just now is hoeing corn.” -And yet! It is uncomfortable that the idea has gone abroad that we have -no joy, no pride, in this thing. The band was playing “Massa in the cold, -cold ground.” Miss Tyler, daughter of the former President of the United -States, ran up the flag. - -Captain Ingraham pulled out of his pocket some verses sent to him by -a Boston girl. They were well rhymed and amounted to this: she held a -rope ready to hang him, though she shed tears when she remembered his -heroic rescue of Koszta. Koszta, the rebel! She calls us rebels, too. So -it depends upon whom one rebels against—whether to save or not shall be -heroic. - -I must read Lincoln’s inaugural. Oh, “comes he in peace, or comes he in -war, or to tread but one measure as Young Lochinvar?” Lincoln’s aim is to -seduce the border States. - -The people, the natives, I mean, are astounded that I calmly affirm, -in all truth and candor, that if there were awful things in society in -Washington, I did not see or hear of them. One must have been hard to -please who did not like the people I knew in Washington. - -Mr. Chesnut has gone with a list of names to the President—de Treville, -Kershaw, Baker, and Robert Rutledge. They are taking a walk, I see. I -hope there will be good places in the army for our list. - -_March 8th._—Judge Campbell,[16] of the United States Supreme Court, has -resigned. Lord! how he must have hated to do it. How other men who are -resigning high positions must hate to do it. - -Now we may be sure the bridge is broken. And yet in the Alabama -Convention they say Reconstructionists abound and are busy. - -Met a distinguished gentleman that I knew when he was in more affluent -circumstances. I was willing enough to speak to him, but when he saw -me advancing for that purpose, to avoid me, he suddenly dodged around -a corner—William, Mrs. de Saussure’s former coachman. I remember him -on his box, driving a handsome pair of bays, dressed sumptuously in -blue broadcloth and brass buttons; a stout, respectable, fine-looking, -middle-aged mulatto. He was very high and mighty. - -Night after night we used to meet him as fiddler-in-chief of all our -parties. He sat in solemn dignity, making faces over his bow, and patting -his foot with an emphasis that shook the floor. We gave him five dollars -a night; that was his price. His mistress never refused to let him play -for any party. He had stable-boys in abundance. He was far above any -physical fear for his sleek and well-fed person. How majestically he -scraped his foot as a sign that he was tuned up and ready to begin! - -Now he is a shabby creature indeed. He must have felt his fallen fortunes -when he met me—one who knew him in his prosperity. He ran away, this -stately yellow gentleman, from wife and children, home and comfort. My -Molly asked him “Why? Miss Liza was good to you, I know.” I wonder who -owns him now; he looked forlorn. - -Governor Moore brought in, to be presented to me, the President of the -Alabama Convention. It seems I had known him before; he had danced -with me at a dancing-school ball when I was in short frocks, with sash, -flounces, and a wreath of roses. He was one of those clever boys of our -neighborhood, in whom my father saw promise of better things, and so -helped him in every way to rise, with books, counsel, sympathy. I was -enjoying his conversation immensely, for he was praising my father[17] -without stint, when the Judge came in, breathing fire and fury. Congress -has incurred his displeasure. We are abusing one another as fiercely as -ever we have abused Yankees. It is disheartening. - -_March 10th._—Mrs. Childs was here to-night (Mary Anderson, from -Statesburg), with several children. She is lovely. Her hair is piled up -on the top of her head oddly. Fashions from France still creep into Texas -across Mexican borders. Mrs. Childs is fresh from Texas. Her husband is -an artillery officer, or was. They will be glad to promote him here. Mrs. -Childs had the sweetest Southern voice, absolute music. But then, she has -all of the high spirit of those sweet-voiced Carolina women, too. - -Then Mr. Browne came in with his fine English accent, so pleasant to the -ear. He tells us that Washington society is not reconciled to the Yankee -_régime_. Mrs. Lincoln means to economize. She at once informed the -major-domo that they were poor and hoped to save twelve thousand dollars -every year from their salary of twenty thousand. Mr. Browne said Mr. -Buchanan’s farewell was far more imposing than Lincoln’s inauguration. - -The people were so amusing, so full of Western stories. Dr. Boykin -behaved strangely. All day he had been gaily driving about with us, and -never was man in finer spirits. To-night, in this brilliant company, he -sat dead still as if in a trance. Once, he waked somewhat—when a high -public functionary came in with a present for me, a miniature gondola, -“A perfect Venetian specimen,” he assured me again and again. In an -undertone Dr. Boykin muttered: “That fellow has been drinking.” “Why -do you think so?” “Because he has told you exactly the same thing four -times.” Wonderful! Some of these great statesmen always tell me the same -thing—and have been telling me the same thing ever since we came here. - -A man came in and some one said in an undertone, “The age of chivalry -is not past, O ye Americans!” “What do you mean?” “That man was once -nominated by President Buchanan for a foreign mission, but some Senator -stood up and read a paper printed by this man abusive of a woman, and -signed by his name in full. After that the Senate would have none of him; -his chance was gone forever.” - -_March 11th._—In full conclave to-night, the drawing-room crowded with -Judges, Governors, Senators, Generals, Congressmen. They were exalting -John C. Calhoun’s hospitality. He allowed everybody to stay all night -who chose to stop at his house. An ill-mannered person, on one occasion, -refused to attend family prayers. Mr. Calhoun said to the servant, -“Saddle that man’s horse and let him go.” From the traveler Calhoun would -take no excuse for the “Deity offended.” I believe in Mr. Calhoun’s -hospitality, but not in his family prayers. Mr. Calhoun’s piety was of -the most philosophical type, from all accounts.[18] - -The latest news is counted good news; that is, the last man who left -Washington tells us that Seward is in the ascendency. He is thought to be -the friend of peace. The man did say, however, that “that serpent Seward -is in the ascendency just now.” - -Harriet Lane has eleven suitors. One is described as likely to win, or he -would be likely to win, except that he is too heavily weighted. He has -been married before and goes about with children and two mothers. There -are limits beyond which! Two mothers-in-law! - -Mr. Ledyard spoke to Mrs. Lincoln in behalf of a door-keeper who almost -felt he had a vested right, having been there since Jackson’s time; -but met with the same answer; she had brought her own girl and must -economize. Mr. Ledyard thought the twenty thousand (and little enough it -is) was given to the President of these United States to enable him to -live in proper style, and to maintain an establishment of such dignity -as befits the head of a great nation. It is an infamy to economize with -the public money and to put it into one’s private purse. Mrs. Browne -was walking with me when we were airing our indignation against Mrs. -Lincoln and her shabby economy. The Herald says three only of the _élite_ -Washington families attended the Inauguration Ball. - -The Judge has just come in and said: “Last night, after Dr. Boykin left -on the cars, there came a telegram that his little daughter, Amanda, had -died suddenly.” In some way he must have known it beforehand. He changed -so suddenly yesterday, and seemed so careworn and unhappy. He believes in -clairvoyance, magnetism, and all that. Certainly, there was some terrible -foreboding of this kind on his part. - -_Tuesday._—Now this, they say, is positive: “Fort Sumter is to be -released and we are to have no war.” After all, far too good to be true. -Mr. Browne told us that, at one of the peace intervals (I mean intervals -in the interest of peace), Lincoln flew through Baltimore, locked up in -an express car. He wore a Scotch cap. - -We went to the Congress. Governor Cobb, who presides over that august -body, put James Chesnut in the chair, and came down to talk to us. He -told us why the pay of Congressmen was fixed in secret session, and why -the amount of it was never divulged—to prevent the lodging-house and -hotel people from making their bills of a size to cover it all. “The bill -would be sure to correspond with the pay,” he said. - -In the hotel parlor we had a scene. Mrs. Scott was describing Lincoln, -who is of the cleverest Yankee type. She said: “Awfully ugly, even -grotesque in appearance, the kind who are always at the corner stores, -sitting on boxes, whittling sticks, and telling stories as funny as they -are vulgar.” Here I interposed: “But Stephen A. Douglas said one day -to Mr. Chesnut, ‘Lincoln is the hardest fellow to handle I have ever -encountered yet.’” Mr. Scott is from California, and said Lincoln is “an -utter American specimen, coarse, rough, and strong; a good-natured, kind -creature; as pleasant-tempered as he is clever, and if this country can -be joked and laughed out of its rights he is the kind-hearted fellow to -do it. Now if there is a war and it pinches the Yankee pocket instead of -filling it——” - -Here a shrill voice came from the next room (which opened upon the one we -were in by folding doors thrown wide open) and said: “Yankees are no more -mean and stingy than you are. People at the North are just as good as -people at the South.” The speaker advanced upon us in great wrath. - -Mrs. Scott apologized and made some smooth, polite remark, though -evidently much embarrassed. But the vinegar face and curly pate refused -to receive any concessions, and replied: “That comes with a very bad -grace after what you were saying,” and she harangued us loudly for -several minutes. Some one in the other room giggled outright, but we were -quiet as mice. Nobody wanted to hurt her feelings. She was one against -so many. If I were at the North, I should expect them to belabor us, -and should hold my tongue. We separated North from South because of -incompatibility of temper. We are divorced because we have hated each -other so. If we could only separate, a “_separation à l’agréable_,” as -the French say it, and not have a horrid fight for divorce. - -The poor exile had already been insulted, she said. She was playing -“Yankee Doodle” on the piano before breakfast to soothe her wounded -spirit, and the Judge came in and calmly requested her to “leave out the -Yankee while she played the Doodle.” The Yankee end of it did not suit -our climate, he said; was totally out of place and had got out of its -latitude. - -A man said aloud: “This war talk is nothing. It will soon blow over. -Only a fuss gotten up by that Charleston clique.” Mr. Toombs asked him -to show his passports, for a man who uses such language is a suspicious -character. - - - - -III - -CHARLESTON, S. C. - -_March 26, 1861-April 15, 1861_ - - -Charleston, S. C., _March 26, 1861_.—I have just come from Mulberry, -where the snow was a foot deep—winter at last after months of apparently -May or June weather. Even the climate, like everything else, is upside -down. But after that den of dirt and horror, Montgomery Hall, how white -the sheets looked, luxurious bed linen once more, delicious fresh cream -with my coffee! I breakfasted in bed. - -Dueling was rife in Camden. William M. Shannon challenged Leitner. -Rochelle Blair was Shannon’s second and Artemus Goodwyn was Leitner’s. My -husband was riding hard all day to stop the foolish people. Mr. Chesnut -finally arranged the difficulty. There was a court of honor and no duel. -Mr. Leitner had struck Mr. Shannon at a negro trial. That’s the way the -row began. Everybody knows of it. We suggested that Judge Withers should -arrest the belligerents. Dr. Boykin and Joe Kershaw[19] aided Mr. Chesnut -to put an end to the useless risk of life. - -John Chesnut is a pretty soft-hearted slave-owner. He had two negroes -arrested for selling whisky to his people on his plantation, and buying -stolen corn from them. The culprits in jail sent for him. He found them -(this snowy weather) lying in the cold on a bare floor, and he thought -that punishment enough; they having had weeks of it. But they were not -satisfied to be allowed to evade justice and slip away. They begged of -him (and got) five dollars to buy shoes to run away in. I said: “Why, -this is flat compounding a felony.” And Johnny put his hands in the -armholes of his waistcoat and stalked majestically before me, saying, -“Woman, what do you know about law?” - -Mrs. Reynolds stopped the carriage one day to tell me Kitty Boykin was -to be married to Savage Heyward. He has only ten children already. These -people take the old Hebrew pride in the number of children they have. -This is the true colonizing spirit. There is no danger of crowding here -and inhabitants are wanted. Old Colonel Chesnut[20] said one day: “Wife, -you must feel that you have not been useless in your day and generation. -You have now twenty-seven great-grandchildren.” - -[Illustration: VIEW OF CHARLESTON DURING THE WAR. - -From an Old Print.] - -_Wednesday._—I have been mobbed by my own house servants. Some of them -are at the plantation, some hired out at the Camden hotel, some are at -Mulberry. They agreed to come in a body and beg me to stay at home to -keep my own house once more, “as I ought not to have them scattered and -distributed every which way.” I had not been a month in Camden since -1858. So a house there would be for their benefit solely, not mine. I -asked my cook if she lacked anything on the plantation at the Hermitage. -“Lack anything?” she said, “I lack everything. What are corn-meal, -bacon, milk, and molasses? Would that be all you wanted? Ain’t I been -living and eating exactly as you does all these years? When I cook for -you, didn’t I have some of all? Dere, now!” Then she doubled herself up -laughing. They all shouted, “Missis, we is crazy for you to stay home.” - -Armsted, my butler, said he hated the hotel. Besides, he heard a man -there abusing Marster, but Mr. Clyburne took it up and made him stop -short. Armsted said he wanted Marster to know Mr. Clyburne was his -friend and would let nobody say a word behind his back against him, -etc., etc. Stay in Camden? Not if I can help it. “Festers in provincial -sloth”—that’s Tennyson’s way of putting it. - -“We” came down here by rail, as the English say. Such a crowd of -Convention men on board. John Manning[21] flew in to beg me to reserve -a seat by me for a young lady under his charge. “_Place aux dames_,” -said my husband politely, and went off to seek a seat somewhere else. As -soon as we were fairly under way, Governor Manning came back and threw -himself cheerily down into the vacant place. After arranging his umbrella -and overcoat to his satisfaction, he coolly remarked: “I am the young -lady.” He is always the handsomest man alive (now that poor William -Taber has been killed in a duel), and he can be very agreeable; that is, -when he pleases to be so. He does not always please. He seemed to have -made his little maneuver principally to warn me of impending danger to -my husband’s political career. “Every election now will be a surprise. -New cliques are not formed yet. The old ones are principally bent upon -displacing one another.” “But the Yankees—those dreadful Yankees!” “Oh, -never mind, we are going to take care of home folks first! How will you -like to rusticate?—go back and mind your own business?” “If I only knew -what that was—what was my own business.” - -Our round table consists of the Judge, Langdon Cheves,[22] Trescott,[23] -and ourselves. Here are four of the cleverest men that we have, but such -very different people, as opposite in every characteristic as the four -points of the compass. Langdon Cheves and my husband have feelings and -ideas in common. Mr. Petigru[24] said of the brilliant Trescott: “He is a -man without indignation.” Trescott and I laugh at everything. - -The Judge, from his life as solicitor, and then on the bench, has learned -to look for the darkest motives for every action. His judgment on men and -things is always so harsh, it shocks and repels even his best friends. -To-day he said: “Your conversation reminds me of a flashy second-rate -novel.” “How?” “By the quantity of French you sprinkle over it. Do you -wish to prevent us from understanding you?” “No,” said Trescott, “we are -using French against Africa. We know the black waiters are all ears now, -and we want to keep what we have to say dark. We can’t afford to take -them into our confidence, you know.” - -This explanation Trescott gave with great rapidity and many gestures -toward the men standing behind us. Still speaking the French language, -his apology was exasperating, so the Judge glared at him, and, in -unabated rage, turned to talk with Mr. Cheves, who found it hard to keep -a calm countenance. - -On the Battery with the Rutledges, Captain Hartstein was introduced to -me. He has done some heroic things—brought home some ships and is a man -of mark. Afterward he sent me a beautiful bouquet, not half so beautiful, -however, as Mr. Robert Gourdin’s, which already occupied the place of -honor on my center table. What a dear, delightful place is Charleston! - -A lady (who shall be nameless because of her story) came to see me -to-day. Her husband has been on the Island with the troops for months. -She has just been down to see him. She meant only to call on him, but he -persuaded her to stay two days. She carried him some clothes made from -his old measure. Now they are a mile too wide. “So much for a hard life!” -I said. - -“No, no,” said she, “they are all jolly down there. He has trained -down; says it is good for him, and he likes the life.” Then she became -confidential, although it was her first visit to me, a perfect stranger. -She had taken no clothes down there—pushed, as she was, in that manner -under Achilles’s tent. But she managed things; she tied her petticoat -around her neck for a night-gown. - -_April 2d._—Governor Manning came to breakfast at our table. The others -had breakfasted hours before. I looked at him in amazement, as he was in -full dress, ready for a ball, swallow-tail and all, and at that hour. -“What is the matter with you?” “Nothing, I am not mad, most noble madam. -I am only going to the photographer. My wife wants me taken thus.” He -insisted on my going, too, and we captured Mr. Chesnut and Governor -Means.[25] The latter presented me with a book, a photo-book, in which I -am to pillory all the celebrities. - -Doctor Gibbes says the Convention is in a snarl. It was called as a -Secession Convention. A secession of places seems to be what it calls for -first of all. It has not stretched its eyes out to the Yankees yet; it -has them turned inward; introspection is its occupation still. - -Last night, as I turned down the gas, I said to myself: “Certainly this -has been one of the pleasantest days of my life.” I can only give the -skeleton of it, so many pleasant people, so much good talk, for, after -all, it was talk, talk, talk _à la Caroline du Sud_. And yet the day -began rather dismally. Mrs. Capers and Mrs. Tom Middleton came for me and -we drove to Magnolia Cemetery. I saw William Taber’s broken column. It -was hard to shake off the blues after this graveyard business. - -The others were off at a dinner party. I dined _tête-à-tête_ with Langdon -Cheves, so quiet, so intelligent, so very sensible withal. There never -was a pleasanter person, or a better man than he. While we were at -table, Judge Whitner, Tom Frost, and Isaac Hayne came. They broke up -our deeply interesting conversation, for I was hearing what an honest -and brave man feared for his country, and then the Rutledges dislodged -the newcomers and bore me off to drive on the Battery. On the staircase -met Mrs. Izard, who came for the same purpose. On the Battery Governor -Adams[26] stopped us. He had heard of my saying he looked like Marshal -Pelissier, and he came to say that at last I had made a personal remark -which pleased him, for once in my life. When we came home Mrs. Isaac -Hayne and Chancellor Carroll called to ask us to join their excursion to -the Island Forts to-morrow. With them was William Haskell. Last summer at -the White Sulphur he was a pale, slim student from the university. To-day -he is a soldier, stout and robust. A few months in camp, with soldiering -in the open air, has worked this wonder. Camping out proves a wholesome -life after all. Then came those nice, sweet, fresh, pure-looking Pringle -girls. We had a charming topic in common—their clever brother Edward. - -A letter from Eliza B., who is in Montgomery: “Mrs. Mallory got a letter -from a lady in Washington a few days ago, who said that there had -recently been several attempts to be gay in Washington, but they proved -dismal failures. The Black Republicans were invited and came, and stared -at their entertainers and their new Republican companions, looked unhappy -while they said they were enchanted, showed no ill-temper at the hardly -stifled grumbling and growling of our friends, who thus found themselves -condemned to meet their despised enemy.” - -I had a letter from the Gwinns to-day. They say Washington offers a -perfect realization of Goldsmith’s Deserted Village. - -Celebrated my 38th birthday, but I am too old now to dwell in public on -that unimportant anniversary. A long, dusty day ahead on those windy -islands; never for me, so I was up early to write a note of excuse to -Chancellor Carroll. My husband went. I hope Anderson will not pay them -the compliment of a salute with shotted guns, as they pass Fort Sumter, -as pass they must. - -Here I am interrupted by an exquisite bouquet from the Rutledges. Are -there such roses anywhere else in the world? Now a loud banging at my -door. I get up in a pet and throw it wide open. “Oh!” said John Manning, -standing there, smiling radiantly; “pray excuse the noise I made. I -mistook the number; I thought it was Rice’s room; that is my excuse. Now -that I am here, come, go with us to Quinby’s. Everybody will be there who -are not at the Island. To be photographed is the rage just now.” - -We had a nice open carriage, and we made a number of calls, Mrs. Izard, -the Pringles, and the Tradd Street Rutledges, the handsome ex-Governor -doing the honors gallantly. He had ordered dinner at six, and we dined -_tête-à-tête_. If he should prove as great a captain in ordering his -line of battle as he is in ordering a dinner, it will be as well for the -country as it was for me to-day. - -Fortunately for the men, the beautiful Mrs. Joe Heyward sits at the next -table, so they take her beauty as one of the goods the gods provide. And -it helps to make life pleasant with English grouse and venison from the -West. Not to speak of the salmon from the lakes which began the feast. -They have me to listen, an appreciative audience, while they talk, and -Mrs. Joe Heyward to look at. - -Beauregard[27] called. He is the hero of the hour. That is, he is -believed to be capable of great things. A hero worshiper was struck -dumb because I said: “So far, he has only been a captain of artillery, -or engineers, or something.” I did not see him. Mrs. Wigfall did and -reproached my laziness in not coming out. - -Last Sunday at church beheld one of the peculiar local sights, old negro -maumas going up to the communion, in their white turbans and kneeling -devoutly around the chancel rail. - -The morning papers say Mr. Chesnut made the best shot on the Island at -target practice. No war yet, thank God. Likewise they tell me Mr. Chesnut -has made a capital speech in the Convention. - -Not one word of what is going on now. “Out of the fulness of the heart -the mouth speaketh,” says the Psalmist. Not so here. Our hearts are in -doleful dumps, but we are as gay, as madly jolly, as sailors who break -into the strong-room when the ship is going down. At first in our great -agony we were out alone. We longed for some of our big brothers to come -out and help us. Well, they are out, too, and now it is Fort Sumter and -that ill-advised Anderson. There stands Fort Sumter, _en evidence_, and -thereby hangs peace or war. - -Wigfall[28] says before he left Washington, Pickens, our Governor, and -Trescott were openly against secession; Trescott does not pretend to like -it now. He grumbles all the time, but Governor Pickens is fire-eater down -to the ground. “At the White House Mrs. Davis wore a badge. Jeff Davis is -no seceder,” says Mrs. Wigfall. - -Captain Ingraham comments in his rapid way, words tumbling over each -other out of his mouth: “Now, Charlotte Wigfall meant that as a fling at -those people. I think better of men who stop to think; it is too rash to -rush on as some do.” “And so,” adds Mrs. Wigfall, “the eleventh-hour men -are rewarded; the half-hearted are traitors in this row.” - -_April 3d._—Met the lovely Lucy Holcombe, now Mrs. Governor Pickens, last -night at Isaac Hayne’s. I saw Miles now begging in dumb show for three -violets she had in her breastpin. She is a consummate actress and he -well up in the part of male flirt. So it was well done. - -“And you, who are laughing in your sleeves at the scene, where did you -get that huge bunch?” “Oh, there is no sentiment when there is a pile -like that of anything!” “Oh, oh!” - -To-day at the breakfast table there was a tragic bestowal of heartsease -on the well-known inquirer who, once more says in austere tones: “Who is -the flirt now?” And so we fool on into the black cloud ahead of us. And -after heartsease cometh rue. - -_April 4th._—Mr. Hayne said his wife moaned over the hardness of the -chaperones’ seats at St. Andrew’s Hall at a Cecilia Ball.[29] She was -hopelessly deposited on one for hours. “And the walls are harder, my -dear. What are your feelings to those of the poor old fellows leaning -there, with their beautiful young wives waltzing as if they could never -tire and in the arms of every man in the room. Watch their haggard, weary -faces, the old boys, you know. At church I had to move my pew. The lovely -Laura was too much for my boys. They all made eyes at her, and nudged -each other and quarreled so, for she gave them glance for glance. Wink, -blink, and snicker as they would, she liked it. I say, my dear, the old -husbands have not exactly a bed of roses; their wives twirling in the -arms of young men, they hugging the wall.” - -While we were at supper at the Haynes’s, Wigfall was sent for to -address a crowd before the Mills House piazza. Like James Fitz James -when he visits Glen Alpin again, it is to be in the saddle, etc. So let -Washington beware. We were sad that we could not hear the speaking. But -the supper was a consolation—_pâté de foie gras_ salad, _biscuit glacé_ -and _champagne frappé_. - -A ship was fired into yesterday, and went back to sea. Is that the first -shot? How can one settle down to anything; one’s heart is in one’s mouth -all the time. Any moment the cannon may open on us, the fleet come in. - -_April 6th._—The plot thickens, the air is red hot with rumors; the -mystery is to find out where these utterly groundless tales originate. In -spite of all, Tom Huger came for us and we went on the Planter to take a -look at Morris Island and its present inhabitants—Mrs. Wigfall and the -Cheves girls, Maxcy Gregg and Colonel Whiting, also John Rutledge, of the -Navy, Dan Hamilton, and William Haskell. John Rutledge was a figurehead -to be proud of. He did not speak to us. But he stood with a Scotch shawl -draped about him, as handsome and stately a creature as ever Queen -Elizabeth loved to look upon. - -There came up such a wind we could not land. I was not too sorry, -though it blew so hard (I am never seasick). Colonel Whiting explained -everything about the forts, what they lacked, etc., in the most -interesting way, and Maxcy Gregg supplemented his report by stating all -the deficiencies and shortcomings by land. - -Beauregard is a demigod here to most of the natives, but there are always -seers who see and say. They give you to understand that Whiting has all -the brains now in use for our defense. He does the work and Beauregard -reaps the glory. Things seem to draw near a crisis. And one must think. -Colonel Whiting is clever enough for anything, so we made up our minds -to-day, Maxcy Gregg and I, as judges. Mr. Gregg told me that my husband -was in a minority in the Convention; so much for cool sense when the -atmosphere is phosphorescent. Mrs. Wigfall says we are mismatched. She -should pair with my cool, quiet, self-poised Colonel. And her stormy -petrel is but a male reflection of me. - -_April 8th._—Yesterday Mrs. Wigfall and I made a few visits. At the first -house they wanted Mrs. Wigfall to settle a dispute. “Was she, indeed, -fifty-five?” Fancy her face, more than ten years bestowed upon her so -freely. Then Mrs. Gibbes asked me if I had ever been in Charleston -before. Says Charlotte Wigfall (to pay me for my snigger when that false -fifty was flung in her teeth), “and she thinks this is her native heath -and her name is McGregor.” She said it all came upon us for breaking the -Sabbath, for indeed it was Sunday. - -Allen Green came up to speak to me at dinner, in all his soldier’s -toggery. It sent a shiver through me. Tried to read Margaret Fuller -Ossoli, but could not. The air is too full of war news, and we are all so -restless. - -Went to see Miss Pinckney, one of the last of the old-world Pinckneys. -She inquired particularly about a portrait of her father, Charles -Cotesworth Pinckney,[30] which she said had been sent by him to my -husband’s grandfather. I gave a good account of it. It hangs in the place -of honor in the drawing-room at Mulberry. She wanted to see my husband, -for “his grandfather, my father’s friend, was one of the handsomest men -of his day.” We came home, and soon Mr. Robert Gourdin and Mr. Miles -called. Governor Manning walked in, bowed gravely, and seated himself -by me. Again he bowed low in mock heroic style, and with a grand wave -of his hand, said: “Madame, your country is invaded.” When I had breath -to speak, I asked, “What does he mean?” He meant this: there are six -men-of-war outside the bar. Talbot and Chew have come to say that -hostilities are to begin. Governor Pickens and Beauregard are holding a -council of war. Mr. Chesnut then came in and confirmed the story. Wigfall -next entered in boisterous spirits, and said: “There was a sound of -revelry by night.” In any stir or confusion my heart is apt to beat so -painfully. Now the agony was so stifling I could hardly see or hear. The -men went off almost immediately. And I crept silently to my room, where I -sat down to a good cry. - -Mrs. Wigfall came in and we had it out on the subject of civil war. We -solaced ourselves with dwelling on all its known horrors, and then we -added what we had a right to expect with Yankees in front and negroes -in the rear. “The slave-owners must expect a servile insurrection, of -course,” said Mrs. Wigfall, to make sure that we were unhappy enough. - -Suddenly loud shouting was heard. We ran out. Cannon after cannon -roared. We met Mrs. Allen Green in the passageway with blanched cheeks -and streaming eyes. Governor Means rushed out of his room in his -dressing-gown and begged us to be calm. “Governor Pickens,” said he, “has -ordered in the plenitude of his wisdom, seven cannon to be fired as a -signal to the Seventh Regiment. Anderson will hear as well as the Seventh -Regiment. Now you go back and be quiet; fighting in the streets has not -begun yet.” - -So we retired. Dr. Gibbes calls Mrs. Allen Green Dame Placid. There was -no placidity to-day, with cannon bursting and Allen on the Island. No -sleep for anybody last night. The streets were alive with soldiers, men -shouting, marching, singing. Wigfall, the “stormy petrel,” is in his -glory, the only thoroughly happy person I see. To-day things seem to have -settled down a little. One can but hope still. Lincoln, or Seward, has -made such silly advances and then far sillier drawings back. There may be -a chance for peace after all. Things are happening so fast. My husband -has been made an aide-de-camp to General Beauregard. - -Three hours ago we were quickly packing to go home. The Convention has -adjourned. Now he tells me the attack on Fort Sumter may begin to-night; -depends upon Anderson and the fleet outside. The Herald says that this -show of war outside of the bar is intended for Texas. John Manning came -in with his sword and red sash, pleased as a boy to be on Beauregard’s -staff, while the row goes on. He has gone with Wigfall to Captain -Hartstein with instructions. Mr. Chesnut is finishing a report he had to -make to the Convention. - -Mrs. Hayne called. She had, she said, but one feeling; pity for those -who are not here. Jack Preston, Willie Alston, “the take-life-easys,” -as they are called, with John Green, “the big brave,” have gone down to -the islands—volunteered as privates. Seven hundred men were sent over. -Ammunition wagons were rumbling along the streets all night. Anderson is -burning blue lights, signs, and signals for the fleet outside, I suppose. - -To-day at dinner there was no allusion to things as they stand in -Charleston Harbor. There was an undercurrent of intense excitement. -There could not have been a more brilliant circle. In addition to our -usual quartette (Judge Withers, Langdon Cheves, and Trescott), our two -ex-Governors dined with us, Means and Manning. These men all talked -so delightfully. For once in my life I listened. That over, business -began in earnest. Governor Means had rummaged a sword and red sash from -somewhere and brought it for Colonel Chesnut, who had gone to demand the -surrender of Fort Sumter. And now patience—we must wait. - -Why did that green goose Anderson go into Fort Sumter? Then everything -began to go wrong. Now they have intercepted a letter from him urging -them to let him surrender. He paints the horrors likely to ensue if they -will not. He ought to have thought of all that before he put his head in -the hole. - -_April 12th._—Anderson will not capitulate. Yesterday’s was the merriest, -maddest dinner we have had yet. Men were audaciously wise and witty. We -had an unspoken foreboding that it was to be our last pleasant meeting. -Mr. Miles dined with us to-day. Mrs. Henry King rushed in saying, “The -news, I come for the latest news. All the men of the King family are on -the Island,” of which fact she seemed proud. - -While she was here our peace negotiator, or envoy, came in—that is, Mr. -Chesnut returned. His interview with Colonel Anderson had been deeply -interesting, but Mr. Chesnut was not inclined to be communicative. He -wanted his dinner. He felt for Anderson and had telegraphed to President -Davis for instructions—what answer to give Anderson, etc. He has now gone -back to Fort Sumter with additional instructions. When they were about to -leave the wharf A. H. Boykin sprang into the boat in great excitement. He -thought himself ill-used, with a likelihood of fighting and he to be left -behind! - -I do not pretend to go to sleep. How can I? If Anderson does not accept -terms at four, the orders are, he shall be fired upon. I count four, St. -Michael’s bells chime out and I begin to hope. At half-past four the -heavy booming of a cannon. I sprang out of bed, and on my knees prostrate -I prayed as I never prayed before. - -There was a sound of stir all over the house, pattering of feet in the -corridors. All seemed hurrying one way. I put on my double-gown and a -shawl and went, too. It was to the housetop. The shells were bursting. -In the dark I heard a man say, “Waste of ammunition.” I knew my husband -was rowing about in a boat somewhere in that dark bay, and that the -shells were roofing it over, bursting toward the fort. If Anderson was -obstinate, Colonel Chesnut was to order the fort on one side to open -fire. Certainly fire had begun. The regular roar of the cannon, there -it was. And who could tell what each volley accomplished of death and -destruction? - -The women were wild there on the housetop. Prayers came from the women -and imprecations from the men. And then a shell would light up the scene. -To-night they say the forces are to attempt to land. We watched up there, -and everybody wondered that Fort Sumter did not fire a shot. - -To-day Miles and Manning, colonels now, aides to Beauregard, dined with -us. The latter hoped I would keep the peace. I gave him only good words, -for he was to be under fire all day and night, down in the bay carrying -orders, etc. - -Last night, or this morning truly, up on the housetop I was so weak -and weary I sat down on something that looked like a black stool. “Get -up, you foolish woman. Your dress is on fire,” cried a man. And he put -me out. I was on a chimney and the sparks had caught my clothes. Susan -Preston and Mr. Venable then came up. But my fire had been extinguished -before it burst out into a regular blaze. - -Do you know, after all that noise and our tears and prayers, nobody has -been hurt; sound and fury signifying nothing—a delusion and a snare. - -Louisa Hamilton came here now. This is a sort of news center. Jack -Hamilton, her handsome young husband, has all the credit of a famous -battery, which is made of railroad iron. Mr. Petigru calls it the -boomerang, because it throws the balls back the way they came; so Lou -Hamilton tells us. During her first marriage, she had no children; hence -the value of this lately achieved baby. To divert Louisa from the glories -of “the Battery,” of which she raves, we asked if the baby could talk -yet. “No, not exactly, but he imitates the big gun when he hears that. -He claps his hands and cries ‘Boom, boom.’” Her mind is distinctly -occupied by three things: Lieutenant Hamilton, whom she calls “Randolph,” -the baby, and the big gun, and it refuses to hold more. - -Pryor, of Virginia, spoke from the piazza of the Charleston hotel. I -asked what he said. An irreverent woman replied: “Oh, they all say the -same thing, but he made great play with that long hair of his, which he -is always tossing aside!” - -Somebody came in just now and reported Colonel Chesnut asleep on the sofa -in General Beauregard’s room. After two such nights he must be so tired -as to be able to sleep anywhere. - -Just bade farewell to Langdon Cheves. He is forced to go home and leave -this interesting place. Says he feels like the man that was not killed -at Thermopylæ. I think he said that unfortunate had to hang himself when -he got home for very shame. Maybe he fell on his sword, which was the -strictly classic way of ending matters. - -I do not wonder at Louisa Hamilton’s baby; we hear nothing, can listen -to nothing; boom, boom goes the cannon all the time. The nervous strain -is awful, alone in this darkened room. “Richmond and Washington ablaze,” -say the papers—blazing with excitement. Why not? To us these last days’ -events seem frightfully great. We were all women on that iron balcony. -Men are only seen at a distance now. Stark Means, marching under the -piazza at the head of his regiment, held his cap in his hand all the time -he was in sight. Mrs. Means was leaning over and looking with tearful -eyes, when an unknown creature asked, “Why did he take his hat off?” Mrs. -Means stood straight up and said: “He did that in honor of his mother; he -saw me.” She is a proud mother, and at the same time most unhappy. Her -lovely daughter Emma is dying in there, before her eyes, of consumption. -At that moment I am sure Mrs. Means had a spasm of the heart; at least, -she looked as I feel sometimes. She took my arm and we came in. - -_April 13th._—Nobody has been hurt after all. How gay we were last night. -Reaction after the dread of all the slaughter we thought those dreadful -cannon were making. Not even a battery the worse for wear. Fort Sumter -has been on fire. Anderson has not yet silenced any of our guns. So the -aides, still with swords and red sashes by way of uniform, tell us. -But the sound of those guns makes regular meals impossible. None of us -go to table. Tea-trays pervade the corridors going everywhere. Some of -the anxious hearts lie on their beds and moan in solitary misery. Mrs. -Wigfall and I solace ourselves with tea in my room. These women have all -a satisfying faith. “God is on our side,” they say. When we are shut in -Mrs. Wigfall and I ask “Why?” “Of course, He hates the Yankees, we are -told. You’ll think that well of Him.” - -Not by one word or look can we detect any change in the demeanor of -these negro servants. Lawrence sits at our door, sleepy and respectful, -and profoundly indifferent. So are they all, but they carry it too far. -You could not tell that they even heard the awful roar going on in the -bay, though it has been dinning in their ears night and day. People talk -before them as if they were chairs and tables. They make no sign. Are -they stolidly stupid? or wiser than we are; silent and strong, biding -their time? - -So tea and toast came; also came Colonel Manning, red sash and sword, to -announce that he had been under fire, and didn’t mind it. He said gaily: -“It is one of those things a fellow never knows how he will come out -until he has been tried. Now I know I am a worthy descendant of my old -Irish hero of an ancestor, who held the British officer before him as a -shield in the Revolution, and backed out of danger gracefully.” We talked -of St. Valentine’s eve, or the maid of Perth, and the drop of the white -doe’s blood that sometimes spoiled all. - -[Illustration: FORT SUMTER UNDER BOMBARDMENT. - -From an Old Print.] - -The war-steamers are still there, outside the bar. And there are people -who thought the Charleston bar “no good” to Charleston. The bar is the -silent partner, or sleeping partner, and in this fray it is doing us -yeoman service. - -_April 15th._—I did not know that one could live such days of excitement. -Some one called: “Come out! There is a crowd coming.” A mob it was, -indeed, but it was headed by Colonels Chesnut and Manning. The crowd was -shouting and showing these two as messengers of good news. They were -escorted to Beauregard’s headquarters. Fort Sumter had surrendered! Those -upon the house-tops shouted to us “The fort is on fire.” That had been -the story once or twice before. - -When we had calmed down, Colonel Chesnut, who had taken it all quietly -enough, if anything more unruffled than usual in his serenity, told us -how the surrender came about. Wigfall was with them on Morris Island -when they saw the fire in the fort; he jumped in a little boat, and with -his handkerchief as a white flag, rowed over. Wigfall went in through a -porthole. When Colonel Chesnut arrived shortly after, and was received -at the regular entrance, Colonel Anderson told him he had need to pick -his way warily, for the place was all mined. As far as I can make out the -fort surrendered to Wigfall. But it is all confusion. Our flag is flying -there. Fire-engines have been sent for to put out the fire. Everybody -tells you half of something and then rushes off to tell something else or -to hear the last news. - -In the afternoon, Mrs. Preston,[31] Mrs. Joe Heyward, and I drove around -the Battery. We were in an open carriage. What a changed scene—the -very liveliest crowd I think I ever saw, everybody talking at once. All -glasses were still turned on the grim old fort. - -Russell,[32] the correspondent of the London Times, was there. They took -him everywhere. One man got out Thackeray to converse with him on equal -terms. Poor Russell was awfully bored, they say. He only wanted to see -the fort and to get news suitable to make up into an interesting article. -Thackeray had become stale over the water. - -Mrs. Frank Hampton[33] and I went to see the camp of the Richland troops. -South Carolina College had volunteered to a boy. Professor Venable (the -mathematical), intends to raise a company from among them for the war, a -permanent company. This is a grand frolic no more for the students, at -least. Even the staid and severe of aspect, Clingman, is here. He says -Virginia and North Carolina are arming to come to our rescue, for now -the North will swoop down on us. Of that we may be sure. We have burned -our ships. We are obliged to go on now. He calls us a poor, little, -hot-blooded, headlong, rash, and troublesome sister State. General -McQueen is in a rage because we are to send troops to Virginia. - -Preston Hampton is in all the flush of his youth and beauty, six feet in -stature; and after all only in his teens; he appeared in fine clothes -and lemon-colored kid gloves to grace the scene. The camp in a fit of -horse-play seized him and rubbed him in the mud. He fought manfully, but -took it all naturally as a good joke. - -Mrs. Frank Hampton knows already what civil war means. Her brother was in -the New York Seventh Regiment, so roughly received in Baltimore. Frank -will be in the opposite camp. - -Good stories there may be and to spare for Russell, the man of the London -Times, who has come over here to find out our weakness and our strength -and to tell all the rest of the world about us. - - - - -IV - -CAMDEN, S. C. - -_April 20, 1861-April 23, 1861_ - - -Camden, S. C., _April 20, 1861_.—Home again at Mulberry. In those last -days of my stay in Charleston I did not find time to write a word. - -And so we took Fort Sumter, _nous autres_; we—Mrs. Frank Hampton, and -others—in the passageway of the Mills House between the reception-room -and the drawing-room, for there we held a sofa against all comers. All -the agreeable people South seemed to have flocked to Charleston at the -first gun. That was after we had found out that bombarding did not kill -anybody. Before that, we wept and prayed and took our tea in groups in -our rooms, away from the haunts of men. - -Captain Ingraham and his kind also took Fort Sumter—from the Battery with -field-glasses and figures made with their sticks in the sand to show what -ought to be done. - -Wigfall, Chesnut, Miles, Manning, took it rowing about the harbor in -small boats from fort to fort under the enemy’s guns, with bombs bursting -in air. - -And then the boys and men who worked those guns so faithfully at the -forts—they took it, too, in their own way. - -Old Colonel Beaufort Watts told me this story and many more of the -_jeunesse dorée_ under fire. They took the fire easily, as they do -most things. They had cotton bag bomb-proofs at Fort Moultrie, and -when Anderson’s shot knocked them about some one called out “Cotton is -falling.” Then down went the kitchen chimney, loaves of bread flew out, -and they cheered gaily, shouting, “Bread-stuffs are rising.” - -Willie Preston fired the shot which broke Anderson’s flag-staff. Mrs. -Hampton from Columbia telegraphed him, “Well done, Willie!” She is his -grandmother, the wife, or widow, of General Hampton, of the Revolution, -and the mildest, sweetest, gentlest of old ladies. This shows how the war -spirit is waking us all up. - -Colonel Miles (who won his spurs in a boat, so William Gilmore Simms[34] -said) gave us this characteristic anecdote. They met a negro out in the -bay rowing toward the city with some plantation supplies, etc. “Are you -not afraid of Colonel Anderson’s cannon?” he was asked. “No, sar, Mars -Anderson ain’t daresn’t hit me; he know Marster wouldn’t ’low it.” - -I have been sitting idly to-day looking out upon this beautiful lawn, -wondering if this can be the same world I was in a few days ago. After -the smoke and the din of the battle, a calm. - -_April 22d._—Arranging my photograph book. On the first page, Colonel -Watts. Here goes a sketch of his life; romantic enough, surely: Beaufort -Watts; bluest blood; gentleman to the tips of his fingers; chivalry -incarnate. He was placed in charge of a large amount of money, in bank -bills. The money belonged to the State and he was to deposit it in the -bank. On the way he was obliged to stay over one night. He put the roll -on a table at his bedside, locked himself in, and slept the sleep of -the righteous. Lo, next day when he awaked, the money was gone. Well! -all who knew him believed him innocent, of course. He searched and they -searched, high and low, but to no purpose. The money had vanished. It was -a damaging story, in spite of his previous character, and a cloud rested -on him. - -Years afterward the house in which he had taken that disastrous sleep -was pulled down. In the wall, behind the wainscot, was found his pile of -money. How the rats got it through so narrow a crack it seemed hard to -realize. Like the hole mentioned by Mercutio, it was not as deep as a -well nor as wide as a church door, but it did for Beaufort Watts until -the money was found. Suppose that house had been burned, or the rats had -gnawed up the bills past recognition? - -People in power understood how this proud man suffered those many years -in silence. Many men looked askance at him. The country tried to repair -the work of blasting the man’s character. He was made Secretary of -Legation to Russia, and was afterward our Consul at Santa Fé de Bogota. -When he was too old to wander far afield, they made him Secretary to all -the Governors of South Carolina in regular succession. - -I knew him more than twenty years ago as Secretary to the Governor. He -was a made-up old battered dandy, the soul of honor. His eccentricities -were all humored. Misfortune had made him sacred. He stood hat in hand -before ladies and bowed as I suppose Sir Charles Grandison might have -done. It was hard not to laugh at the purple and green shades of his -overblack hair. He came at one time to show me the sword presented -to Colonel Shelton for killing the only Indian who was killed in the -Seminole war. We bagged Osceola and Micanopy under a flag of truce—that -is, they were snared, not shot on the wing. - -To go back to my knight-errant: he knelt, handed me the sword, and then -kissed my hand. I was barely sixteen and did not know how to behave under -the circumstances. He said, leaning on the sword, “My dear child, learn -that it is a much greater liberty to shake hands with a lady than to kiss -her hand. I have kissed the Empress of Russia’s hand and she did not -make faces at me.” He looks now just as he did then. He is in uniform, -covered with epaulettes, aigulettes, etc., shining in the sun, and with -his plumed hat reins up his war-steed and bows low as ever. - -Now I will bid farewell for a while as Othello did to all the “pomp, -pride, and circumstance of glorious war,” and come down to my domestic -strifes and troubles. I have a sort of volunteer maid, the daughter of my -husband’s nurse, dear old Betsy. She waits on me because she so pleases. -Besides, I pay her. She belongs to my father-in-law, who has too many -slaves to care very much about their way of life. So Maria Whitaker came, -all in tears. She brushes hair delightfully, and as she stood at my back -I could see her face in the glass. “Maria, are you crying because all -this war talk scares you?” said I. “No, ma’am.” “What is the matter with -you?” “Nothing more than common.” “Now listen. Let the war end either way -and you will be free. We will have to free you before we get out of this -thing. Won’t you be glad?” “Everybody knows Mars Jeems wants us free, and -it is only old Marster holds hard. He ain’t going to free anybody any -way, you see.” - -And then came the story of her troubles. “Now, Miss Mary, you see me -married to Jeems Whitaker yourself. I was a good and faithful wife to -him, and we were comfortable every way—good house, everything. He had -no cause of complaint, but he has left me.” “For heaven’s sake! Why?” -“Because I had twins. He says they are not his because nobody named -Whitaker ever had twins.” - -Maria is proud in her way, and the behavior of this bad husband has -nearly mortified her to death. She has had three children in two years. -No wonder the man was frightened. But then Maria does not depend on him -for anything. She was inconsolable, and I could find nothing better to -say than, “Come, now, Maria! Never mind, your old Missis and Marster are -so good to you. Now let us look up something for the twins.” The twins -are named “John and Jeems,” the latter for her false loon of a husband. -Maria is one of the good colored women. She deserved a better fate in -her honest matrimonial attempt. But they do say she has a trying temper. -Jeems was tried, and he failed to stand the trial. - -_April 23d._—Note the glaring inconsistencies of life. Our chatelaine -locked up Eugene Sue, and returned even Washington Allston’s novel with -thanks and a decided hint that it should be burned; at least it should -not remain in her house. Bad books are not allowed house room, except in -the library under lock and key, the key in the Master’s pocket; but bad -women, if they are not white, or serve in a menial capacity, may swarm -the house unmolested; the ostrich game is thought a Christian act. Such -women are no more regarded as a dangerous contingent than canary birds -would be. - -If you show by a chance remark that you see some particular creature, -more shameless than the rest, has no end of children, and no beginning of -a husband, you are frowned down; you are talking on improper subjects. -There are certain subjects pure-minded ladies never touch upon, even in -their thoughts. It does not do to be so hard and cruel. It is best to -let the sinners alone, poor things. If they are good servants otherwise, -do not dismiss them; all that will come straight as they grow older, and -it does! They are frantic, one and all, to be members of the church. The -Methodist Church is not so pure-minded as to shut its eyes; it takes them -up and turns them out with a high hand if they are found going astray as -to any of the ten commandments. - - - - -V - -MONTGOMERY, ALA. - -_April 27, 1861-May 20, 1861_ - - -Montgomery, Ala., _April 27, 1861_.—Here we are once more. Hon. Robert -Barnwell came with us. His benevolent spectacles give him a most -Pickwickian expression. We Carolinians revere his goodness above all -things. Everywhere, when the car stopped, the people wanted a speech, and -we had one stream of fervid oratory. We came along with a man whose wife -lived in Washington. He was bringing her to Georgia as the safest place. - -The Alabama crowd are not as confident of taking Fort Pickens as we were -of taking Fort Sumter. - -Baltimore is in a blaze. They say Colonel Ben Huger is in command -there—son of the “Olmutz” Huger. General Robert E. Lee, son of Light -Horse Harry Lee, has been made General-in-Chief of Virginia. With such -men to the fore, we have hope. The New York Herald says, “Slavery must -be extinguished, if in blood.” It thinks we are shaking in our shoes at -their great mass meetings. We are jolly as larks, all the same. - -Mr. Chesnut has gone with Wade Hampton[35] to see President Davis about -the legion Wade wants to get up. The President came across the aisle to -speak to me at church to-day. He was very cordial, and I appreciated the -honor. - -Wigfall is black with rage at Colonel Anderson’s account of the fall of -Sumter. Wigfall did behave magnanimously, but Anderson does not seem to -see it in that light. “Catch me risking my life to save him again,” says -Wigfall. “He might have been man enough to tell the truth to those New -Yorkers, however unpalatable to them a good word for us might have been. -We did behave well to him. The only men of his killed, he killed himself, -or they killed themselves firing a salute to their old striped rag.” - -Mr. Chesnut was delighted with the way Anderson spoke to him when he went -to demand the surrender. They parted quite tenderly. Anderson said: “If -we do not meet again on earth, I hope we may meet in Heaven.” How Wigfall -laughed at Anderson “giving Chesnut a howdy in the other world!” - -What a kind welcome the old gentlemen gave me! One, more affectionate and -homely than the others, slapped me on the back. Several bouquets were -brought me, and I put them in water around my plate. Then General Owens -gave me some violets, which I put in my breastpin. - -“Oh,” said my “Gutta Percha” Hemphill,[36] “if I had known how those -bouquets were to be honored I would have been up by daylight seeking -the sweetest flowers!” Governor Moore came in, and of course seats were -offered him. “This is a most comfortable chair,” cried an overly polite -person. “The most comfortable chair is beside Mrs. Chesnut,” said the -Governor, facing the music gallantly, as he sank into it gracefully. Well -done, old fogies! - -Browne said: “These Southern men have an awfully flattering way with -women.” “Oh, so many are descendants of Irishmen, and so the blarney -remains yet, even, and in spite of their gray hairs!” For it was a group -of silver-gray flatterers. Yes, blarney as well as bravery came in with -the Irish. - -At Mrs. Davis’s reception dismal news, for civil war seems certain. At -Mrs. Toombs’s reception Mr. Stephens came by me. Twice before we have -had it out on the subject of this Confederacy, once on the cars, coming -from Georgia here, once at a supper, where he sat next to me. To-day he -was not cheerful in his views. I called him half-hearted, and accused -him of looking back. Man after man came and interrupted the conversation -with some frivle-fravle, but we held on. He was deeply interesting, and -he gave me some new ideas as to our dangerous situation. Fears for the -future and not exultation at our successes pervade his discourse. - -Dined at the President’s and never had a pleasanter day. He is as witty -as he is wise. He was very agreeable; he took me in to dinner. The talk -was of Washington; nothing of our present difficulties. - -A General Anderson from Alexandria, D. C., was in doleful dumps. He says -the North are so much better prepared than we are. They are organized, or -will be, by General Scott. We are in wild confusion. Their army is the -best in the world. We are wretchedly armed, etc., etc. They have ships -and arms that were ours and theirs. - -Mrs. Walker, resplendently dressed, one of those gorgeously arrayed -persons who fairly shine in the sun, tells me she mistook the inevitable -Morrow for Mr. Chesnut, and added, “Pass over the affront to my powers of -selection.” I told her it was “an insult to the Palmetto flag.” Think of -a South Carolina Senator like that! - -Men come rushing in from Washington with white lips, crying, “Danger, -danger!” It is very tiresome to have these people always harping on -this: “The enemy’s troops are the finest body of men we ever saw.” “Why -did you not make friends of them,” I feel disposed to say. We would have -war, and now we seem to be letting our golden opportunity pass; we are -not preparing for war. There is talk, talk, talk in that Congress—lazy -legislators, and rash, reckless, headlong, devil-may-care, proud, -passionate, unruly, raw material for soldiers. They say we have among us -a regiment of spies, men and women, sent here by the wily Seward. Why? -Our newspapers tell every word there is to be told, by friend or foe. - -A two-hours’ call from Hon. Robert Barnwell. His theory is, all would -have been right if we had taken Fort Sumter six months ago. He made this -very plain to me. He is clever, if erratic. I forget why it ought to -have been attacked before. At another reception, Mrs. Davis was in fine -spirits. Captain Dacier was here. Came over in his own yacht. Russell, -of The London Times, wondered how we had the heart to enjoy life so -thoroughly when all the Northern papers said we were to be exterminated -in such a short time. - -_May 9th._—Virginia Commissioners here. Mr. Staples and Mr. Edmonston -came to see me. They say Virginia “has no grievance; she comes out on a -point of honor; could she stand by and see her sovereign sister States -invaded?” - -Sumter Anderson has been offered a Kentucky regiment. Can they raise a -regiment in Kentucky against us? In Kentucky, our sister State? - -Suddenly General Beauregard and his aide (the last left him of the galaxy -who surrounded him in Charleston), John Manning, have gone—Heaven knows -where, but out on a war-path certainly. Governor Manning called himself -“the last rose of summer left blooming alone” of that fancy staff. A new -fight will gather them again. - -Ben McCulloch, the Texas Ranger, is here, and Mr. Ward,[37] my “Gutta -Percha” friend’s colleague from Texas. Senator Ward in appearance is the -exact opposite of Senator Hemphill. The latter, with the face of an old -man, has the hair of a boy of twenty. Mr. Ward is fresh and fair, with -blue eyes and a boyish face, but his head is white as snow. Whether he -turned it white in a single night or by slower process I do not know, but -it is strangely out of keeping with his clear young eye. He is thin, and -has a queer stooping figure. - -This story he told me of his own experience. On a Western steamer there -was a great crowd and no unoccupied berth, or sleeping place of any sort -whatsoever in the gentlemen’s cabin—saloon, I think they called it. He -had taken a stateroom, 110, but he could not eject the people who had -already seized it and were asleep in it. Neither could the Captain. It -would have been a case of revolver or “’leven inch Bowie-knife.” - -Near the ladies’ saloon the steward took pity on him. “This man,” said -he, “is 110, and I can find no place for him, poor fellow.” There was -a peep out of bright eyes: “I say, steward, have you a man 110 years -old out there? Let us see him. He must be a natural curiosity.” “We are -overcrowded,” was the answer, “and we can’t find a place for him to -sleep.” “Poor old soul; bring him in here. We will take care of him.” - -“Stoop and totter,” sniggered the steward to No. 110, “and go in.” - -“Ah,” said Mr. Ward, “how those houris patted and pitied me and hustled -me about and gave me the best berth! I tried not to look; I knew it was -wrong, but I looked. I saw them undoing their back hair and was lost in -amazement at the collapse when the huge hoop-skirts fell off, unheeded -on the cabin floor.” - -One beauty who was disporting herself near his curtain suddenly caught -his eye. She stooped and gathered up her belongings as she said: “I -say, stewardess, your old hundred and ten is a humbug. His eyes are -too blue for anything,” and she fled as he shut himself in, nearly -frightened to death. I forget how it ended. There was so much laughing -at his story I did not hear it all. So much for hoary locks and their -reverence-inspiring power! - -Russell, the wandering English newspaper correspondent, was telling how -very odd some of our plantation habits were. He was staying at the house -of an ex-Cabinet Minister, and Madame would stand on the back piazza and -send her voice three fields off, calling a servant. Now that is not a -Southern peculiarity. Our women are soft, and sweet, low-toned, indolent, -graceful, quiescent. I dare say there are bawling, squalling, vulgar -people everywhere. - -_May 13th._—We have been down from Montgomery on the boat to that -God-forsaken landing, Portland, Ala. Found everybody drunk—that is, the -three men who were there. At last secured a carriage to carry us to my -brother-in-law’s house. Mr. Chesnut had to drive seven miles, pitch dark, -over an unknown road. My heart was in my mouth, which last I did not open. - -Next day a patriotic person informed us that, so great was the war fever -only six men could be found in Dallas County. I whispered to Mr. Chesnut: -“We found three of the lone ones _hors de combat_ at Portland.” So much -for the corps of reserves—alcoholized patriots. - -Saw for the first time the demoralization produced by hopes of freedom. -My mother’s butler (whom I taught to read, sitting on his knife-board) -contrived to keep from speaking to us. He was as efficient as ever in -his proper place, but he did not come behind the scenes as usual and -have a friendly chat. Held himself aloof so grand and stately we had to -send him a “tip” through his wife Hetty, mother’s maid, who, however, -showed no signs of disaffection. She came to my bedside next morning with -everything that was nice for breakfast. She had let me sleep till midday, -and embraced me over and over again. I remarked: “What a capital cook -they have here!” She curtsied to the ground. “I cooked every mouthful -on that tray—as if I did not know what you liked to eat since you was a -baby.” - -_May 19th._—Mrs. Fitzpatrick says Mr. Davis is too gloomy for her. He -says we must prepare for a long war and unmerciful reverses at first, -because they are readier for war and so much stronger numerically. Men -and money count so in war. “As they do everywhere else,” said I, doubting -her accurate account of Mr. Davis’s spoken words, though she tried to -give them faithfully. We need patience and persistence. There is enough -and to spare of pluck and dash among us, the do-and-dare style. - -I drove out with Mrs. Davis. She finds playing Mrs. President of this -small confederacy slow work, after leaving friends such as Mrs. Emory and -Mrs. Joe Johnston[38] in Washington. I do not blame her. The wrench has -been awful with us all, but we don’t mean to be turned into pillars of -salt. - -Mr. Mallory came for us to go to Mrs. Toombs’s reception. Mr. Chesnut -would not go, and I decided to remain with him. This proved a wise -decision. First Mr. Hunter[39] came. In college they called him from -his initials, R. M. T., “Run Mad Tom” Hunter. Just now I think he is -the sanest, if not the wisest, man in our new-born Confederacy. I -remember when I first met him. He sat next to me at some state dinner -in Washington. Mr. Clay had taken me in to dinner, but seemed quite -satisfied that my “other side” should take me off his hands. - -Mr. Hunter did not know me, nor I him. I suppose he inquired, or looked -at my card, lying on the table, as I looked at his. At any rate, we -began a conversation which lasted steadily through the whole thing from -soup to dessert. Mr. Hunter, though in evening dress, presented a rather -tumbled-up appearance. His waistcoat wanted pulling down, and his hair -wanted brushing. He delivered unconsciously that day a lecture on English -literature which, if printed, I still think would be a valuable addition -to that literature. Since then, I have always looked forward to a talk -with the Senator from Virginia with undisguised pleasure. Next came Mr. -Miles and Mr. Jameson, of South Carolina. The latter was President of our -Secession Convention; also has written a life of Du Guesclin that is not -so bad. So my unexpected reception was of the most charming. Judge Frost -came a little later. They all remained until the return of the crowd from -Mrs. Toombs’s. - -These men are not sanguine—I can’t say, without hope, exactly. They -are agreed in one thing: it is worth while to try a while, if only to -get away from New England. Captain Ingraham was here, too. He is South -Carolina to the tips of his fingers; yet he has it dyed in the wool—it is -part of his nature—to believe the United States Navy can whip anything in -the world. All of these little inconsistencies and contrarieties make the -times very exciting. One never knows what tack any one of them will take -at the next word. - -_May 20th._—Lunched at Mrs. Davis’s; everything nice to eat, and I was -ravenous. For a fortnight I have not even gone to the dinner table. -Yesterday I was forced to dine on cold asparagus and blackberries, so -repulsive in aspect was the other food they sent me. Mrs. Davis was as -nice as the luncheon. When she is in the mood, I do not know so pleasant -a person. She is awfully clever, always. - -We talked of this move from Montgomery. Mr. Chesnut opposes it violently, -because this is so central a position for our government. He wants our -troops sent into Maryland in order to make our fight on the border, and -so to encompass Washington. I see that the uncomfortable hotels here will -at last move the Congress. Our statesmen love their ease, and it will -be hot here in summer. “I do hope they will go,” Mrs. Davis said. “The -Yankees will make it hot for us, go where we will, and truly so if war -comes.” “And it has come,” said I. “Yes, I fancy these dainty folks may -live to regret losing even the fare of the Montgomery hotels.” “Never.” - -Mr. Chesnut has three distinct manias. The Maryland scheme is one, and he -rushes off to Jeff Davis, who, I dare say, has fifty men every day come -to him with infallible plans to save the country. If only he can keep -his temper. Mrs. Davis says he answers all advisers in softly modulated, -dulcet accents. - -What a rough menagerie we have here. And if nice people come to see -you, up walks an irate Judge, who engrosses the conversation and abuses -the friends of the company generally; that is, abuses everybody and -prophesies every possible evil to the country, provided he finds that -denouncing your friends does not sufficiently depress you. Everybody has -manias—up North, too, by the papers. - -But of Mr. Chesnut’s three crazes: Maryland is to be made the seat of -war, old Morrow’s idea of buying up steamers abroad for our coast -defenses should be adopted, and, last of all, but far from the least, we -must make much cotton and send it to England as a bank to draw on. The -very cotton we have now, if sent across the water, would be a gold mine -to us. - - - - -VI - -CHARLESTON, S. C. - -_May 25, 1861-June 24, 1861_ - - -Charleston, S. C., _May 25, 1861_.—We have come back to South Carolina -from the Montgomery Congress, stopping over at Mulberry. We came with R. -M. T. Hunter and Mr. Barnwell. Mr. Barnwell has excellent reasons for -keeping cotton at home, but I forget what they are. Generally, people -take what he says, also Mr. Hunter’s wisdom, as unanswerable. Not so Mr. -Chesnut, who growls at both, much as he likes them. We also had Tom Lang -and his wife, and Doctor Boykin. Surely there never was a more congenial -party. The younger men had been in the South Carolina College while Mr. -Barnwell was President. Their love and respect for him were immeasurable -and he benignly received it, smiling behind those spectacles. - -Met John Darby at Atlanta and told him he was Surgeon of the Hampton -Legion, which delighted him. He had had adventures. With only a few -moments on the platform to interchange confidences, he said he had -remained a little too long in the Medical College in Philadelphia, where -he was some kind of a professor, and they had been within an ace of -hanging him as a Southern spy. “Rope was ready,” he sniggered. At Atlanta -when he unguardedly said he was fresh from Philadelphia, he barely -escaped lynching, being taken for a Northern spy. “Lively life I am -having among you, on both sides,” he said, hurrying away. And I moaned, -“Here was John Darby like to have been killed by both sides, and no time -to tell me the curious coincidences.” What marvelous experiences a little -war begins to produce. - -_May 27th._—They look for a fight at Norfolk. Beauregard is there. I -think if I were a man I’d be there, too. Also Harper’s Ferry is to be -attacked. The Confederate flag has been cut down at Alexandria by a man -named Ellsworth,[40] who was in command of Zouaves. Jackson was the name -of the person who shot Ellsworth in the act. Sixty of our cavalry have -been taken by Sherman’s brigade. Deeper and deeper we go in. - -Thirty of Tom Boykin’s company have come home from Richmond. They went -as a rifle company, armed with muskets. They were sandhill tackeys—those -fastidious ones, not very anxious to fight with anything, or in any way, -I fancy. Richmond ladies had come for them in carriages, fêted them, -waved handkerchiefs to them, brought them dainties with their own hands, -in the faith that every Carolinian was a gentleman, and every man south -of Mason and Dixon’s line a hero. But these are not exactly descendants -of the Scotch Hay, who fought the Danes with his plowshare, or the oxen’s -yoke, or something that could hit hard and that came handy. - -Johnny has gone as a private in Gregg’s regiment. He could not stand it -at home any longer. Mr. Chesnut was willing for him to go, because those -sandhill men said “this was a rich man’s war,” and the rich men would be -the officers and have an easy time and the poor ones would be privates. -So he said: “Let the gentlemen set the example; let them go in the -ranks.” So John Chesnut is a gentleman private. He took his servant with -him all the same. - -Johnny reproved me for saying, “If I were a man, I would not sit here and -dole and drink and drivel and forget the fight going on in Virginia.” -He said it was my duty not to talk so rashly and make enemies. He “had -the money in his pocket to raise a company last fall, but it has slipped -through his fingers, and now he is a common soldier.” “You wasted it or -spent it foolishly,” said I. “I do not know where it has gone,” said he. -“There was too much consulting over me, too much good counsel was given -to me, and everybody gave me different advice.” “Don’t you ever know -your own mind?” “We will do very well in the ranks; men and officers all -alike; we know everybody.” - -So I repeated Mrs. Lowndes’s solemn words when she heard that South -Carolina had seceded alone: “As thy days so shall thy strength be.” Don’t -know exactly what I meant, but thought I must be impressive as he was -going away. Saw him off at the train. Forgot to say anything there, but -cried my eyes out. - -Sent Mrs. Wigfall a telegram—“Where shrieks the wild sea-mew?” She -answered: “Sea-mew at the Spotswood Hotel. Will shriek soon. I will -remain here.” - -_June 6th._—Davin! Have had a talk concerning him to-day with two -opposite extremes of people. - -Mrs. Chesnut, my mother-in-law, praises everybody, good and bad. “Judge -not,” she says. She is a philosopher; she would not give herself the pain -to find fault. The Judge abuses everybody, and he does it so well—short, -sharp, and incisive are his sentences, and he revels in condemning the -world _en bloc_, as the French say. So nobody is the better for her good -word, or the worse for his bad one. - -In Camden I found myself in a flurry of women. “Traitors,” they cried. -“Spies; they ought to be hanged; Davin is taken up, Dean and Davis are -his accomplices.” “What has Davin done?” “He’ll be hanged, never you -mind.” “For what?” “They caught him walking on the trestle work in the -swamp, after no good, you may be sure.” “They won’t hang him for that!” -“Hanging is too good for him!” “You wait till Colonel Chesnut comes.” “He -is a lawyer,” I said, gravely. “Ladies, he will disappoint you. There -will be no lynching if he goes to that meeting to-day. He will not move a -step except by habeas corpus and trial by jury, and a quantity of bench -and bar to speak long speeches.” - -Mr. Chesnut did come, and gave a more definite account of poor Davin’s -precarious situation. They had intercepted treasonable letters of his at -the Post Office. I believe it was not a very black treason after all. At -any rate, Mr. Chesnut spoke for him with might and main at the meeting. -It was composed (the meeting) of intelligent men with cool heads. And -they banished Davin to Fort Sumter. The poor Music Master can’t do much -harm in the casemates there. He may thank his stars that Mr. Chesnut gave -him a helping hand. In the red hot state our public mind now is in there -will be a short shrift for spies. Judge Withers said that Mr. Chesnut -never made a more telling speech in his life than he did to save this -poor Frenchman for whom Judge Lynch was ready. I had never heard of Davin -in my life until I heard he was to be hanged. - -Judge Stephen A. Douglas, the “little giant,” is dead; one of those -killed by the war, no doubt; trouble of mind. - -Charleston people are thin-skinned. They shrink from Russell’s touches. -I find his criticisms mild. He has a light touch. I expected so much -worse. Those Englishmen come, somebody says, with three P’s—pen, paper, -prejudices. I dread some of those after-dinner stories. As to that -day in the harbor, he let us off easily. He says our men are so fine -looking. Who denies it? Not one of us. Also that it is a silly impression -which has gone abroad that men can not work in this climate. We live in -the open air, and work like Trojans at all manly sports, riding hard, -hunting, playing at being soldiers. These fine, manly specimens have been -in the habit of leaving the coast when it became too hot there, and also -of fighting a duel or two, if kept long sweltering under a Charleston -sun. Handsome youths, whose size and muscle he admired so much as they -prowled around the Mills House, would not relish hard work in the fields -between May and December. Negroes stand a tropical or semitropical sun at -noon-day better than white men. In fighting it is different. Men will not -then mind sun, or rain, or wind. - -Major Emory,[41] when he was ordered West, placed his resignation in the -hands of his Maryland brothers. After the Baltimore row the brothers -sent it in, but Maryland declined to secede. Mrs. Emory, who at least is -two-thirds of that co-partnership, being old Franklin’s granddaughter, -and true to her blood, tried to get it back. The President refused point -blank, though she went on her knees. That I do not believe. The Franklin -race are stiff-necked and stiff-kneed; not much given to kneeling to God -or man from all accounts. - -If Major Emory comes to us won’t he have a good time? Mrs. Davis adores -Mrs. Emory. No wonder I fell in love with her myself. I heard of her -before I saw her in this wise. Little Banks told me the story. She -was dancing at a ball when some bad accident maker for the Evening -News rushed up and informed her that Major Emory had been massacred -by ten Indians somewhere out West. She coolly answered him that she -had later intelligence; it was not so. Turning a deaf ear then, she -went on dancing. Next night the same officious fool met her with this -congratulation: “Oh, Mrs. Emory, it was all a hoax! The Major is alive.” -She cried: “You are always running about with your bad news,” and turned -her back on him; or, I think it was, “You delight in spiteful stories,” -or, “You are a harbinger of evil.” Banks is a newspaper man and knows how -to arrange an anecdote for effect. - -_June 12th._—Have been looking at Mrs. O’Dowd as she burnished the -“Meejor’s arrms” before Waterloo. And I have been busy, too. My husband -has gone to join Beauregard, somewhere beyond Richmond. I feel blue-black -with melancholy. But I hope to be in Richmond before long myself. That is -some comfort. - -The war is making us all tenderly sentimental. No casualties yet, no real -mourning, nobody hurt. So it is all parade, fife, and fine feathers. -Posing we are _en grande tenue_. There is no imagination here to -forestall woe, and only the excitement and wild awakening from every-day -stagnant life are felt. That is, when one gets away from the two or three -sensible men who are still left in the world. - -When Beauregard’s report of the capture of Fort Sumter was printed, -Willie Ancrum said: “How is this? Tom Ancrum and Ham Boykin’s names are -not here. We thought from what they told us that they did most of the -fighting.” - -Colonel Magruder[42] has done something splendid on the peninsula. -Bethel is the name of the battle. Three hundred of the enemy killed, they -say. - -Our people, Southerners, I mean, continue to drop in from the outside -world. And what a contempt those who seceded a few days sooner feel for -those who have just come out! A Camden notable, called Jim Velipigue, -said in the street to-day: “At heart Robert E. Lee is against us; that I -know.” What will not people say in war times! Also, he said that Colonel -Kershaw wanted General Beauregard to change the name of the stream near -Manassas Station. Bull’s Run is so unrefined. Beauregard answered: “Let -us try and make it as great a name as your South Carolina Cowpens.”[43] - -Mrs. Chesnut, born in Philadelphia, can not see what right we have to -take Mt. Vernon from our Northern sisters. She thinks that ought to -be common to both parties. We think they will get their share of this -world’s goods, do what we may, and we will keep Mt. Vernon if we can. -No comfort in Mr. Chesnut’s letter from Richmond. Unutterable confusion -prevails, and discord already. - -In Charleston a butcher has been clandestinely supplying the Yankee fleet -outside the bar with beef. They say he gave the information which led to -the capture of the Savannah. They will hang him. - -Mr. Petigru alone in South Carolina has not seceded. When they pray for -our President, he gets up from his knees. He might risk a prayer for Mr. -Davis. I doubt if it would seriously do Mr. Davis any good. Mr. Petigru -is too clever to think himself one of the righteous whose prayers avail -so overly much. Mr. Petigru’s disciple, Mr. Bryan, followed his example. -Mr. Petigru has such a keen sense of the ridiculous he must be laughing -in his sleeve at the hubbub this untimely trait of independence has -raised. - -Looking out for a battle at Manassas Station. I am always ill. The name -of my disease is a longing to get away from here and to go to Richmond. - -_June 19th._—In England Mr. Gregory and Mr. Lyndsey rise to say a good -word for us. Heaven reward them; shower down its choicest blessings on -their devoted heads, as the fiction folks say. - -Barnwell Heyward telegraphed me to meet him at Kingsville, but I was at -Cool Spring, Johnny’s plantation, and all my clothes were at Sandy Hill, -our home in the Sand Hills; so I lost that good opportunity of the very -nicest escort to Richmond. Tried to rise above the agonies of every-day -life. Read Emerson; too restless—Manassas on the brain. - -Russell’s letters are filled with rubbish about our wanting an English -prince to reign over us. He actually intimates that the noisy arming, -drumming, marching, proclaiming at the North, scares us. Yes, as the -making of faces and turning of somersaults by the Chinese scared the -English. - -Mr. Binney[44] has written a letter. It is in the Intelligencer of -Philadelphia. He offers Lincoln his life and fortune; all that he has put -at Lincoln’s disposal to conquer us. Queer; we only want to separate from -them, and they put such an inordinate value on us. They are willing to -risk all, life and limb, and all their money to keep us, they love us so. - -Mr. Chesnut is accused of firing the first shot, and his cousin, an -ex-West Pointer, writes in a martial fury. They confounded the best -shot made on the Island the day of the picnic with the first shot at -Fort Sumter. This last is claimed by Captain James. Others say it was -one of the Gibbeses who first fired. But it was Anderson who fired the -train which blew up the Union. He slipped into Fort Sumter that night, -when we expected to talk it all over. A letter from my husband dated, -“Headquarters, Manassas Junction, June 16, 1861”: - - MY DEAR MARY: I wrote you a short letter from Richmond last - Wednesday, and came here next day. Found the camp all busy - and preparing for a vigorous defense. We have here at this - camp seven regiments, and in the same command, at posts in - the neighborhood, six others—say, ten thousand good men. The - General and the men feel confident that they can whip twice - that number of the enemy, at least. - - I have been in the saddle for two days, all day, with the - General, to become familiar with the topography of the country, - and the posts he intends to assume, and the communications - between them. - - We learned General Johnston has evacuated Harper’s Ferry, and - taken up his position at Winchester, to meet the advancing - column of McClellan, and to avoid being cut off by the three - columns which were advancing upon him. Neither Johnston nor - Beauregard considers Harper’s Ferry as very important in a - strategic point of view. - - I think it most probable that the next battle you will hear of - will be between the forces of Johnston and McClellan. - - I think what we particularly need is a head in the field—a - Major-General to combine and conduct all the forces as well - as plan a general and energetic campaign. Still, we have all - confidence that we will defeat the enemy whenever and wherever - we meet in general engagement. Although the majority of the - people just around here are with us, still there are many who - are against us. - - God bless you. - - Yours, - - JAMES CHESNUT, JR. - -Mary Hammy and myself are off for Richmond. Rev. Mr. Meynardie, of -the Methodist persuasion, goes with us. We are to be under his care. -War-cloud lowering. - -Isaac Hayne, the man who fought a duel with Ben Alston across the -dinner-table and yet lives, is the bravest of the brave. He attacks -Russell in the Mercury—in the public prints—for saying we wanted an -English prince to the fore. Not we, indeed! Every man wants to be at the -head of affairs himself. If he can not be king himself, then a republic, -of course. It was hardly necessary to do more than laugh at Russell’s -absurd idea. There was a great deal of the wildest kind of talk at the -Mills House. Russell writes candidly enough of the British in India. We -can hardly expect him to suppress what is to our detriment. - -_June 24th._—Last night I was awakened by loud talking and candles -flashing, tramping of feet, growls dying away in the distance, loud calls -from point to point in the yard. Up I started, my heart in my mouth. Some -dreadful thing had happened, a battle, a death, a horrible accident. Some -one was screaming aloft—that is, from the top of the stairway, hoarsely -like a boatswain in a storm. Old Colonel Chesnut was storming at the -sleepy negroes looking for fire, with lighted candles, in closets and -everywhere else. I dressed and came upon the scene of action. - -“What is it? Any news?” “No, no, only mamma smells a smell; she thinks -something is burning somewhere.” The whole yard was alive, literally -swarming. There are sixty or seventy people kept here to wait upon this -household, two-thirds of them too old or too young to be of any use, -but families remain intact. The old Colonel has a magnificent voice. I -am sure it can be heard for miles. Literally, he was roaring from the -piazza, giving orders to the busy crowd who were hunting the smell of -fire. - -Old Mrs. Chesnut is deaf; so she did not know what a commotion she -was creating. She is very sensitive to bad odors. Candles have to be -taken out of the room to be snuffed. Lamps are extinguished only in the -porticoes, or farther afield. She finds violets oppressive; can only -tolerate a single kind of sweet rose. A tea-rose she will not have in -her room. She was totally innocent of the storm she had raised, and in a -mild, sweet voice was suggesting places to be searched. I was weak enough -to laugh hysterically. The bombardment of Fort Sumter was nothing to this. - -After this alarm, enough to wake the dead, the smell was found. A family -had been boiling soap. Around the soap-pot they had swept up some woolen -rags. Raking up the fire to make all safe before going to bed, this was -heaped up with the ashes, and its faint smoldering tainted the air, at -least to Mrs. Chesnut’s nose, two hundred yards or more away. - -Yesterday some of the negro men on the plantation were found with -pistols. I have never before seen aught about any negro to show that they -knew we had a war on hand in which they have any interest. - -Mrs. John de Saussure bade me good-by and God bless you. I was touched. -Camden people never show any more feeling or sympathy than red Indians, -except at a funeral. It is expected of all to howl then, and if you don’t -“show feeling,” indignation awaits the delinquent. - - - - -VII - -RICHMOND, VA. - -_June 27, 1861-July 4, 1861_ - - -Richmond, Va., _June 27, 1861_.—Mr. Meynardie was perfect in the part -of traveling companion. He had his pleasures, too. The most pious and -eloquent of parsons is human, and he enjoyed the converse of the “eminent -persons” who turned up on every hand and gave their views freely on all -matters of state. - -Mr. Lawrence Keitt joined us _en route_. With him came his wife and -baby. We don’t think alike, but Mr. Keitt is always original and -entertaining. Already he pronounces Jeff Davis a failure and his -Cabinet a farce. “Prophetic,” I suggested, as he gave his opinion -before the administration had fairly got under way. He was fierce in -his fault-finding as to Mr. Chesnut’s vote for Jeff Davis. He says Mr. -Chesnut overpersuaded the Judge, and those two turned the tide, at least -with the South Carolina delegation. We wrangled, as we always do. He says -Howell Cobb’s common sense might have saved us. - -Two quiet, unobtrusive Yankee school-teachers were on the train. I had -spoken to them, and they had told me all about themselves. So I wrote on -a scrap of paper, “Do not abuse our home and house so before these Yankee -strangers, going North. Those girls are schoolmistresses returning from -whence they came.” - -Soldiers everywhere. They seem to be in the air, and certainly to fill -all space. Keitt quoted a funny Georgia man who says we try our soldiers -to see if they are hot enough before we enlist them. If, when water is -thrown on them they do not sizz, they won’t do; their patriotism is too -cool. - -To show they were wide awake and sympathizing enthusiastically, every -woman from every window of every house we passed waved a handkerchief, if -she had one. This fluttering of white flags from every side never ceased -from Camden to Richmond. Another new symptom—parties of girls came to -every station simply to look at the troops passing. They always stood -(the girls, I mean) in solid phalanx, and as the sun was generally in -their eyes, they made faces. Mary Hammy never tired of laughing at this -peculiarity of her sister patriots. - -At the depot in Richmond, Mr. Mallory, with Wigfall and Garnett, met us. -We had no cause to complain of the warmth of our reception. They had a -carriage for us, and our rooms were taken at the Spotswood. But then the -people who were in the rooms engaged for us had not departed at the time -they said they were going. They lingered among the delights of Richmond, -and we knew of no law to make them keep their words and go. Mrs. Preston -had gone for a few days to Manassas. So we took her room. Mrs. Davis -is as kind as ever. She met us in one of the corridors accidentally, -and asked us to join her party and to take our meals at her table. Mr. -Preston came, and we moved into a room so small there was only space for -a bed, washstand, and glass over it. My things were hung up out of the -way on nails behind the door. - -As soon as my husband heard we had arrived, he came, too. After dinner he -sat smoking, the solitary chair of the apartment tilted against the door -as he smoked, and my poor dresses were fumigated. I remonstrated feebly. -“War times,” said he; “nobody is fussy now. When I go back to Manassas -to-morrow you will be awfully sorry you snubbed me about those trumpery -things up there.” So he smoked the pipe of peace, for I knew that his -remarks were painfully true. As soon as he was once more under the -enemy’s guns, I would repent in sackcloth and ashes. - -Captain Ingraham came with Colonel Lamar.[45] The latter said he could -only stay five minutes; he was obliged to go back at once to his camp. -That was a little before eight. However, at twelve he was still talking -to us on that sofa. We taunted him with his fine words to the F. F. V. -crowd before the Spotswood: “Virginia has no grievance. She raises her -strong arm to catch the blow aimed at her weaker sisters.” He liked it -well, however, that we knew his speech by heart. - -This Spotswood is a miniature world. The war topic is not so much -avoided, as that everybody has some personal dignity to take care of and -everybody else is indifferent to it. I mean the “personal dignity of” -_autrui_. In this wild confusion everything likely and unlikely is told -you, and then everything is as flatly contradicted. At any rate, it is -safest not to talk of the war. - -Trescott was telling us how they laughed at little South Carolina in -Washington. People said it was almost as large as Long Island, which is -hardly more than a tail-feather of New York. Always there is a child who -sulks and won’t play; that was our rôle. And we were posing as San Marino -and all model-spirited, though small, republics, pose. - -He tells us that Lincoln is a humorist. Lincoln sees the fun of things; -he thinks if they had left us in a corner or out in the cold a while -pouting, with our fingers in our mouth, by hook or by crook he could have -got us back, but Anderson spoiled all. - -In Mrs. Davis’s drawing-room last night, the President took a seat by -me on the sofa where I sat. He talked for nearly an hour. He laughed at -our faith in our own powers. We are like the British. We think every -Southerner equal to three Yankees at least. We will have to be equivalent -to a dozen now. After his experience of the fighting qualities of -Southerners in Mexico, he believes that we will do all that can be done -by pluck and muscle, endurance, and dogged courage, dash, and red-hot -patriotism. And yet his tone was not sanguine. There was a sad refrain -running through it all. For one thing, either way, he thinks it will -be a long war. That floored me at once. It has been too long for me -already. Then he said, before the end came we would have many a bitter -experience. He said only fools doubted the courage of the Yankees, or -their willingness to fight when they saw fit. And now that we have stung -their pride, we have roused them till they will fight like devils. - -Mrs. Bradley Johnson is here, a regular heroine. She outgeneraled the -Governor of North Carolina in some way and has got arms and clothes and -ammunition for her husband’s regiment.[46] There was some joke. The -regimental breeches were all wrong, but a tailor righted that—hind part -before, or something odd. - -Captain Hartstein came to-day with Mrs. Bartow. Colonel Bartow is Colonel -of a Georgia regiment now in Virginia. He was the Mayor of Savannah who -helped to wake the patriotic echoes the livelong night under my sleepless -head into the small hours in Charleston in November last. His wife is a -charming person, witty and wise, daughter of Judge Berrien. She had on a -white muslin apron with pink bows on the pockets. It gave her a gay and -girlish air, and yet she must be as old as I am. - -Mr. Lamar, who does not love slavery more than Sumner does, nor than I -do, laughs at the compliment New England pays us. We want to separate -from them; to be rid of the Yankees forever at any price. And they -hate us so, and would clasp us, or grapple us, as Polonius has it, to -their bosoms “with hooks of steel.” We are an unwilling bride. I think -incompatibility of temper began when it was made plain to us that we got -all the opprobrium of slavery and they all the money there was in it with -their tariff. - -Mr. Lamar says, the young men are light-hearted because there is a fight -on hand, but those few who look ahead, the clear heads, they see all the -risk, the loss of land, limb, and life, home, wife, and children. As in -“the brave days of old,” they take to it for their country’s sake. They -are ready and willing, come what may. But not so light-hearted as the -_jeunesse dorée_. - -_June 29th._—Mrs. Preston, Mrs. Wigfall, Mary Hammy and I drove in a -fine open carriage to see the _Champ de Mars_. It was a grand tableau -out there. Mr. Davis rode a beautiful gray horse, the Arab Edwin de -Leon brought him from Egypt. His worst enemy will allow that he is a -consummate rider, graceful and easy in the saddle, and Mr. Chesnut, who -has talked horse with his father ever since he was born, owns that Mr. -Davis knows more about horses than any man he has met yet. General Lee -was there with him; also Joe Davis and Wigfall acting as his aides. - -Poor Mr. Lamar has been brought from his camp—paralysis or some sort -of shock. Every woman in the house is ready to rush into the Florence -Nightingale business. I think I will wait for a wounded man, to make my -first effort as Sister of Charity. Mr. Lamar sent for me. As everybody -went, Mr. Davis setting the example, so did I. Lamar will not die this -time. Will men flatter and make eyes, until their eyes close in death, at -the ministering angels? He was the same old Lamar of the drawing-room. - -It is pleasant at the President’s table. My seat is next to Joe Davis, -with Mr. Browne on the other side, and Mr. Mallory opposite. There is -great constraint, however. As soon as I came I repeated what the North -Carolina man said on the cars, that North Carolina had 20,000 men -ready and they were kept back by Mr. Walker, etc. The President caught -something of what I was saying, and asked me to repeat it, which I did, -although I was scared to death. “Madame, when you see that person tell -him his statement is false. We are too anxious here for troops to refuse -a man who offers himself, not to speak of 20,000 men.” Silence ensued—of -the most profound. - -Uncle H. gave me three hundred dollars for his daughter Mary’s expenses, -making four in all that I have of hers. He would pay me one hundred, -which he said he owed my husband for a horse. I thought it an excuse to -lend me money. I told him I had enough and to spare for all my needs -until my Colonel came home from the wars. - -Ben Allston, the Governor’s son, is here—came to see me; does not show -much of the wit of the Petigrus; pleasant person, however. Mr. Brewster -and Wigfall came at the same time. The former, chafing at Wigfall’s -anomalous position here, gave him fiery advice. Mr. Wigfall was calm and -full of common sense. A brave man, and without a thought of any necessity -for displaying his temper, he said: “Brewster, at this time, before the -country is strong and settled in her new career, it would be disastrous -for us, the head men, to engage in a row among ourselves.” - -As I was brushing flies away and fanning the prostrate Lamar, I reported -Mr. Davis’s conversation of the night before. “He is all right,” said -Mr. Lamar, “the fight had to come. We are men, not women. The quarrel -had lasted long enough. We hate each other so, the fight had to come. -Even Homer’s heroes, after they had stormed and scolded enough, fought -like brave men, long and well. If the athlete, Sumner, had stood on his -manhood and training and struck back when Preston Brooks assailed him, -Preston Brooks’s blow need not have been the opening skirmish of the war. -Sumner’s country took up the fight because he did not. Sumner chose his -own battle-field, and it was the worse for us. What an awful blunder that -Preston Brooks business was!” Lamar said Yankees did not fight for the -fun of it; they always made it pay or let it alone. - -Met Mr. Lyon with news, indeed—a man here in the midst of us, taken with -Lincoln’s passports, etc., in his pocket—a palpable spy. Mr. Lyon said he -would be hanged—in all human probability, that is. - -A letter from my husband written at Camp Pickens, and saying: “If you and -Mrs. Preston can make up your minds to leave Richmond, and can come up to -a nice little country house near Orange Court House, we could come to see -you frequently while the army is stationed here. It would be a safe place -for the present, near the scene of action, and directly in the line of -news from all sides.” So we go to Orange Court House. - -Read the story of Soulouque,[47] the Haytian man: he has wonderful -interest just now. Slavery has to go, of course, and joy go with it. -These Yankees may kill us and lay waste our land for a while, but conquer -us—never! - -_July 4th._—Russell abuses us in his letters. People here care a great -deal for what Russell says, because he represents the London Times, and -the Times reflects the sentiment of the English people. How we do cling -to the idea of an alliance with England or France! Without France even -Washington could not have done it. - -We drove to the camp to see the President present a flag to a Maryland -regiment. Having lived on the battle-field (Kirkwood), near Camden,[48] -we have an immense respect for the Maryland line. When our militia in -that fight ran away, Colonel Howard and the Marylanders held their own -against Rawdon, Cornwallis, and the rest, and everywhere around are -places named for a doughty captain killed in our defense—Kirkwood, De -Kalb, etc. The last, however, was a Prussian count. A letter from my -husband, written June 22d, has just reached me. He says: - -“We are very strongly posted, entrenched, and have now at our command -about 15,000 of the best troops in the world. We have besides, two -batteries of artillery, a regiment of cavalry, and daily expect a -battalion of flying artillery from Richmond. We have sent forward seven -regiments of infantry and rifles toward Alexandria. Our outposts have -felt the enemy several times, and in every instance the enemy recoils. -General Johnston has had several encounters—the advancing columns of the -two armies—and with him, too, the enemy, although always superior in -numbers, are invariably driven back. - -“There is great deficiency in the matter of ammunition. General -Johnston’s command, in the very face of overwhelming numbers, have only -thirty rounds each. If they had been well provided in this respect, they -could and would have defeated Cadwallader and Paterson with great ease. -I find the opinion prevails throughout the army that there is great -imbecility and shameful neglect in the War Department. - -“Unless the Republicans fall back, we must soon come together on both -lines, and have a decided engagement. But the opinion prevails here that -Lincoln’s army will not meet us if they can avoid it. They have already -fallen back before a slight check from 400 of Johnston’s men. They had -700 and were badly beaten. You have no idea how dirty and irksome the -camp life is. You would hardly know your best friend in camp guise.” - -Noise of drums, tramp of marching regiments all day long; rattling of -artillery wagons, bands of music, friends from every quarter coming in. -We ought to be miserable and anxious, and yet these are pleasant days. -Perhaps we are unnaturally exhilarated and excited. - -Heard some people in the drawing-room say: “Mrs. Davis’s ladies are not -young, are not pretty,” and I am one of them. The truthfulness of the -remark did not tend to alleviate its bitterness. We must put Maggie -Howell and Mary Hammy in the foreground, as youth and beauty are in -request. At least they are young things—bright spots in a somber-tinted -picture. The President does not forbid our going, but he is very much -averse to it. We are consequently frightened by our own audacity, but we -are wilful women, and so we go. - - - - -VIII - -FAUQUIER WHITE SULPHUR SPRINGS, VA. - -_July 6, 1861-July 11, 1861_ - - -Fauquier White Sulphur Springs, Va., _July 6, 1861_.—Mr. Brewster came -here with us. The cars were jammed with soldiers to the muzzle. They were -very polite and considerate, and we had an agreeable journey, in spite -of heat, dust, and crowd. Rev. Robert Barnwell was with us. He means -to organize a hospital for sick and wounded. There was not an inch of -standing-room even; so dusty, so close, but everybody in tip-top spirits. - -Mr. Preston and Mr. Chesnut met us at Warrenton. Saw across the lawn, but -did not speak to them, some of Judge Campbell’s family. There they wander -disconsolate, just outside the gates of their Paradise: a resigned Judge -of the Supreme Court of the United States; resigned, and for a cause that -he is hardly more than half in sympathy with, Judge Campbell’s is one of -the hardest cases. - -_July 7th._—This water is making us young again. How these men enjoy the -baths. They say Beauregard can stop the way with sixty thousand; that -many are coming. - -An antique female, with every hair curled and frizzed, said to be a -Yankee spy, sits opposite us. Brewster solemnly wondered “with eternity -and the judgment to come so near at hand, how she could waste her few -remaining minutes curling her hair.” He bade me be very polite, for she -would ask me questions. When we were walking away from table, I demanded -his approval of my self-control under such trying circumstances. It seems -I was not as calm and forbearing as I thought myself. Brewster answered -with emphasis: “Do you always carry brickbats like that in your pocket -ready for the first word that offends you? You must not do so, when you -are with spies from the other side.” I do not feel at all afraid of spies -hearing anything through me, for I do not know anything. - -But our men could not tarry with us in these cool shades and comfortable -quarters, with water unlimited, excellent table, etc. They have gone back -to Manassas, and the faithful Brewster with them to bring us the latest -news. They left us in excellent spirits, which we shared until they -were out of sight. We went with them to Warrenton, and then heard that -General Johnston was in full retreat, and that a column was advancing -upon Beauregard. So we came back, all forlorn. If our husbands are taken -prisoners, what will they do with them? Are they soldiers or traitors? - -Mrs. Ould read us a letter from Richmond. How horrified they are there -at Joe Johnston’s retreating. And the enemies of the War Department -accuse Walker of not sending General Johnston ammunition in sufficient -quantities; say that is the real cause of his retreat. Now will they not -make the ears of that slow-coach, the Secretary of War, buzz? - -Mrs. Preston’s maid Maria has a way of rushing in—“Don’t you hear the -cannon?” We fly to the windows, lean out to our waists, pull all the -hair away from our ears, but can not hear it. Lincoln wants four hundred -millions of money and men in proportion. Can he get them? He will find us -a heavy handful. Midnight. I hear Maria’s guns. - -We are always picking up some good thing of the rough Illinoisan’s -saying. Lincoln objects to some man—“Oh, he is too _interruptious_”; that -is a horrid style of man or woman, the interruptions. I know the thing, -but had no name for it before. - -_July 9th._—Our battle summer. May it be our first and our last, so -called. After all we have not had any of the horrors of war. Could there -have been a gayer, or pleasanter, life than we led in Charleston. And -Montgomery, how exciting it all was there! So many clever men and women -congregated from every part of the South. Mosquitoes, and a want of -neatness, and a want of good things to eat, drove us away. In Richmond -the girls say it is perfectly delightful. We found it so, too, but the -bickering and quarreling have begun there. - -At table to-day we heard Mrs. Davis’s ladies described. They were said to -wear red frocks and flats on their heads. We sat mute as mice. One woman -said she found the drawing-room of the Spotswood was warm, stuffy, and -stifling. “Poor soul,” murmured the inevitable Brewster, “and no man came -to air her in the moonlight stroll, you know. Why didn’t somebody ask her -out on the piazza to see the comet?” Heavens above, what philandering -was done in the name of the comet! When you stumbled on a couple on the -piazza they lifted their eyes, and “comet” was the only word you heard. -Brewster came back with a paper from Washington with terrific threats of -what they will do to us. Threatened men live long. - -There was a soft, sweet, low, and slow young lady opposite to us. She -seemed so gentle and refined, and so uncertain of everything. Mr. -Brewster called her Miss Albina McClush, who always asked her maid when a -new book was mentioned, “Seraphina, have I perused that volume?” - -Mary Hammy, having a _fiancé_ in the wars, is inclined at times to be sad -and tearful. Mrs. Preston quoted her negro nurse to her: “Never take any -more trouble in your heart than you can kick off at the end of your toes.” - -_July 11th._—We did hear cannon to-day. The woman who slandered Mrs. -Davis’s republican court, of which we are honorable members, by saying -they—well, were not young; that they wore gaudy colors, and dressed -badly—I took an inventory to-day as to her charms. She is darkly, -deeply, beautifully freckled; she wears a wig which is kept in place by -a tiara of mock jewels; she has the fattest of arms and wears black bead -bracelets. - -The one who is under a cloud, shadowed as a Yankee spy, has confirmed our -worst suspicions. She exhibited unholy joy, as she reported seven hundred -sick soldiers in the hospital at Culpeper, and that Beauregard had sent a -flag of truce to Washington. - -What a night we had! Maria had seen suspicious persons hovering about -all day, and Mrs. Preston a ladder which could easily be placed so as to -reach our rooms. Mary Hammy saw lights glancing about among the trees, -and we all heard guns. So we sat up. Consequently, I am writing in bed -to-day. A letter from my husband saying, in particular: “Our orders are -to move on,” the date, July 10th. “Here we are still and no more prospect -of movement now than when I last wrote to you. It is true, however, that -the enemy is advancing slowly in our front, and we are preparing to -receive him. He comes in great force, being more than three times our -number.” - -The spy, so-called, gave us a parting shot: said Beauregard had arrested -her brother in order that he might take a fine horse which the aforesaid -brother was riding. Why? Beauregard, at a moment’s notice, could have -any horse in South Carolina, or Louisiana, for that matter. This man was -arrested and sent to Richmond, and “will be acquitted as they always -are,” said Brewster. “They send them first to Richmond to see and hear -everything there; then they acquit them, and send them out of the country -by way of Norfolk to see everything there. But, after all, what does it -matter? They have no need for spies: our newspapers keep no secrets hid. -The thoughts of our hearts are all revealed. Everything with us is open -and aboveboard. - -“At Bethel the Yankees fired too high. Every daily paper is jeering them -about it yet. They’ll fire low enough next time, but no newspaper man -will be there to get the benefit of their improved practise, alas!” - - - - -IX - -RICHMOND, VA. - -_July 13, 1861-September 2, 1861_ - - -Richmond, Va., _July 13, 1861_.—Now we feel safe and comfortable. We can -not be flanked. Mr. Preston met us at Warrenton. Mr. Chesnut doubtless -had too many spies to receive from Washington, galloping in with the -exact numbers of the enemy done up in their back hair. - -Wade Hampton is here; Doctor Nott also—Nott and Glyddon known to fame. -Everybody is here, _en route_ for the army, or staying for the meeting of -Congress. - -Lamar is out on crutches. His father-in-law, once known only as the -humorist Longstreet,[49] author of Georgia Scenes, now a staid Methodist, -who has outgrown the follies of his youth, bore him off to-day. They say -Judge Longstreet has lost the keen sense of fun that illuminated his life -in days of yore. Mrs. Lamar and her daughter were here. - -The President met us cordially, but he laughed at our sudden retreat, -with baggage lost, etc. He tried to keep us from going; said it was a -dangerous experiment. Dare say he knows more about the situation of -things than he chooses to tell us. - -To-day in the drawing-room, saw a _vivandière_ in the flesh. She was in -the uniform of her regiment, but wore Turkish pantaloons. She frisked -about in her hat and feathers; did not uncover her head as a man would -have done; played the piano; and sang war-songs. She had no drum, but she -gave us rataplan. She was followed at every step by a mob of admiring -soldiers and boys. - -Yesterday, as we left the cars, we had a glimpse of war. It was the -saddest sight: the memory of it is hard to shake off—sick soldiers, not -wounded ones. There were quite two hundred (they said) lying about as -best they might on the platform. Robert Barnwell[50] was there doing all -he could. Their pale, ghastly faces! So here is one of the horrors of war -we had not reckoned on. There were many good men and women with Robert -Barnwell, rendering all the service possible in the circumstances. - -Just now I happened to look up and saw Mr. Chesnut with a smile on his -face watching me from the passageway. I flew across the room, and as I -got half-way saw Mrs. Davis touch him on the shoulder. She said he was to -go at once into Mr. Davis’s room, where General Lee and General Cooper -were. After he left us, Mrs. Davis told me General Beauregard had sent -Mr. Chesnut here on some army business. - -_July 14th._—Mr. Chesnut remained closeted with the President and General -Lee all the afternoon. The news does not seem pleasant. At least, he is -not inclined to tell me any of it. He satisfied himself with telling me -how sensible and soldierly this handsome General Lee is. General Lee’s -military sagacity was also his theme. Of course the President dominated -the party, as well by his weight of brain as by his position. I did not -care a fig for a description of the war council. I wanted to know what is -in the wind now? - -_July 16th._—Dined to-day at the President’s table. Joe Davis, the -nephew, asked me if I liked white port wine. I said I did not know; “all -that I had ever known had been dark red.” So he poured me out a glass. I -drank it, and it nearly burned up my mouth and throat. It was horrid, but -I did not let him see how it annoyed me. I pretended to be glad that any -one found me still young enough to play off a practical joke upon me. It -was thirty years since I had thought of such a thing. - -Met Colonel Baldwin in the drawing-room. He pointed significantly to his -Confederate colonel’s buttons and gray coat. At the White Sulphur last -summer he was a “Union man” to the last point. “How much have you changed -besides your coat?” “I was always true to our country,” he said. “She -leaves me no choice now.” - -As far as I can make out, Beauregard sent Mr. Chesnut to the President to -gain permission for the forces of Joe Johnston and Beauregard to join, -and, united, to push the enemy, if possible, over the Potomac. Now every -day we grow weaker and they stronger; so we had better give a telling -blow at once. Already, we begin to cry out for more ammunition, and -already the blockade is beginning to shut it all out. - -A young Emory is here. His mother writes him to go back. Her Franklin -blood certainly calls him with no uncertain sound to the Northern -side, while his fatherland is wavering and undecided, split in half by -factions. Mrs. Wigfall says he is half inclined to go. She wondered -that he did not. With a father in the enemy’s army, he will always be -“suspect” here, let the President and Mrs. Davis do for him what they -will. - -I did not know there was such a “bitter cry” left in me, but I wept my -heart away to-day when my husband went off. Things do look so black. When -he comes up here he rarely brings his body-servant, a negro man. Lawrence -has charge of all Mr. Chesnut’s things—watch, clothes, and two or three -hundred gold pieces that lie in the tray of his trunk. All these, papers, -etc., he tells Lawrence to bring to me if anything happens to him. But I -said: “Maybe he will pack off to the Yankees and freedom with all that.” -“Fiddlesticks! He is not going to leave me for anybody else. After all, -what can he ever be, better than he is now—a gentleman’s gentleman?” “He -is within sound of the enemy’s guns, and when he gets to the other army -he is free.” Maria said of Mr. Preston’s man: “What he want with anything -more, ef he was free? Don’t he live just as well as Mars John do now?” - -Mrs. McLane, Mrs. Joe Johnston, Mrs. Wigfall, all came. I am sure so many -clever women could divert a soul _in extremis_. The Hampton Legion all -in a snarl—about, I forget what; standing on their dignity, I suppose. -I have come to detest a man who says, “My own personal dignity and -self-respect require.” I long to cry, “No need to respect yourself until -you can make other people do it.” - -_July 19th._—Beauregard telegraphed yesterday (they say, to General -Johnston), “Come down and help us, or we shall be crushed by numbers.” -The President telegraphed General Johnston to move down to Beauregard’s -aid. At Bull Run, Bonham’s Brigade, Ewell’s, and Longstreet’s encountered -the foe and repulsed him. Six hundred prisoners have been sent here. - -I arose, as the Scriptures say, and washed my face and anointed my head -and went down-stairs. At the foot of them stood General Cooper, radiant, -one finger nervously arranging his shirt collar, or adjusting his neck to -it after his fashion. He called out: “Your South Carolina man, Bonham, -has done a capital thing at Bull Run—driven back the enemy, if not -defeated him; with killed and prisoners,” etc., etc. Clingman came to -tell the particulars, and Colonel Smith (one of the trio with Garnett, -McClellan, who were sent to Europe to inspect and report on military -matters). Poor Garnett is killed. There was cowardice or treachery on -the part of natives up there, or some of Governor Letcher’s appointments -to military posts. I hear all these things said. I do not understand, but -it was a fatal business. - -Mrs. McLane says she finds we do not believe a word of any news unless it -comes in this guise: “A great battle fought. Not one Confederate killed. -Enemy’s loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners taken by us, immense.” I -was in hopes there would be no battle until Mr. Chesnut was forced to -give up his amateur aideship to come and attend to his regular duties in -the Congress. - -Keitt has come in. He says Bonham’s battle was a skirmish of outposts. -Joe Davis, Jr., said: “Would Heaven only send us a Napoleon!” Not one -bit of use. If Heaven did, Walker would not give him a commission. Mrs. -Davis and Mrs. Joe Johnston, “her dear Lydia,” were in fine spirits. The -effect upon _nous autres_ was evident; we rallied visibly. South Carolina -troops pass every day. They go by with a gay step. Tom Taylor and John -Rhett bowed to us from their horses as we leaned out of the windows. Such -shaking of handkerchiefs. We are forever at the windows. - -It was not such a mere skirmish. We took three rifled cannon and six -hundred stands of arms. Mr. Davis has gone to Manassas. He did not let -Wigfall know he was going. That ends the delusion of Wigfall’s aideship. -No mistake to-day. I was too ill to move out of my bed. So they all sat -in my room. - -_July 22d._—Mrs. Davis came in so softly that I did not know she was here -until she leaned over me and said: “A great battle has been fought.[51] -Joe Johnston led the right wing, and Beauregard the left wing of the -army. Your husband is all right. Wade Hampton is wounded. Colonel -Johnston of the Legion killed; so are Colonel Bee and Colonel Bartow. -Kirby Smith[52] is wounded or killed.” - -I had no breath to speak; she went on in that desperate, calm way, to -which people betake themselves under the greatest excitement: “Bartow, -rallying his men, leading them into the hottest of the fight, died -gallantly at the head of his regiment. The President telegraphs me only -that ‘it is a great victory.’ General Cooper has all the other telegrams.” - -Still I said nothing; I was stunned; then I was so grateful. Those -nearest and dearest to me were safe still. She then began, in the same -concentrated voice, to read from a paper she held in her hand: “Dead and -dying cover the field. Sherman’s battery taken. Lynchburg regiment cut to -pieces. Three hundred of the Legion wounded.” - -That got me up. Times were too wild with excitement to stay in bed. We -went into Mrs. Preston’s room, and she made me lie down on her bed. -Men, women, and children streamed in. Every living soul had a story to -tell. “Complete victory,” you heard everywhere. We had been such anxious -wretches. The revulsion of feeling was almost too much to bear. - -To-day I met my friend, Mr. Hunter. I was on my way to Mrs. Bartow’s room -and begged him to call at some other time. I was too tearful just then -for a morning visit from even the most sympathetic person. - -A woman from Mrs. Bartow’s country was in a fury because they had stopped -her as she rushed to be the first to tell Mrs. Bartow her husband was -killed, it having been decided that Mrs. Davis should tell her. Poor -thing! She was found lying on her bed when Mrs. Davis knocked. “Come in,” -she said. When she saw it was Mrs. Davis, she sat up, ready to spring to -her feet, but then there was something in Mrs. Davis’s pale face that -took the life out of her. She stared at Mrs. Davis, then sank back, and -covered her face as she asked: “Is it bad news for me?” Mrs. Davis did -not speak. “Is he killed?” Afterward Mrs. Bartow said to me: “As soon as -I saw Mrs. Davis’s face I could not say one word. I knew it all in an -instant. I knew it before I wrapped the shawl about my head.” - -Maria, Mrs. Preston’s maid, furiously patriotic, came into my room. -“These colored people say it is printed in the papers here that the -Virginia people done it all. Now Mars Wade had so many of his men killed -and he wounded, it stands to reason that South Carolina was no ways -backward. If there was ever anything plain, that’s plain.” - -_Tuesday._—Witnessed for the first time a military funeral. As that march -came wailing up, they say Mrs. Bartow fainted. The empty saddle and the -led war-horse—we saw and heard it all; and now it seems we are never out -of the sound of the Dead March in Saul. It comes and it comes, until I -feel inclined to close my ears and scream. - -Yesterday, Mrs. Singleton and ourselves sat on a bedside and mingled our -tears for those noble spirits—John Darby, Theodore Barker, and James -Lowndes. To-day we find we wasted our grief; they are not so much as -wounded. I dare say all the rest is true about them—in the face of the -enemy, with flags in their hands, leading their men. “But Dr. Darby is -a surgeon.” He is as likely to forget that as I am. He is grandson of -Colonel Thomson of the Revolution, called, by way of pet name, by his -soldiers, “Old Danger.” Thank Heaven they are all quite alive. And we -will not cry next time until officially notified. - -_July 24th._—Here Mr. Chesnut opened my door and walked in. Out of the -fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh. I had to ask no questions. He -gave me an account of the battle as he saw it (walking up and down my -room, occasionally seating himself on a window sill, but too restless to -remain still many moments); and told what regiments he was sent to bring -up. He took the orders to Colonel Jackson, whose regiment stood so stock -still under fire that they were called a “stone wall.” Also, they call -Beauregard, Eugene, and Johnston, Marlboro. Mr. Chesnut rode with Lay’s -cavalry after the retreating enemy in the pursuit, they following them -until midnight. Then there came such a fall of rain—rain such as is only -known in semitropical lands. - -In the drawing-room, Colonel Chesnut was the “belle of the ball”; -they crowded him so for news. He was the first arrival that they -could get at from the field of battle. But the women had to give way -to the dignitaries of the land, who were as filled with curiosity as -themselves—Mr. Barnwell, Mr. Hunter, Mr. Cobb, Captain Ingraham, etc. - -Wilmot de Saussure says Wilson of Massachusetts, a Senator of the United -States,[53] came to Manassas, _en route_ to Richmond, with his dancing -shoes ready for a festive scene which was to celebrate a triumph. The New -York Tribune said: “In a few days we shall have Richmond, Memphis, and -New Orleans. They must be taken and at once.” For “a few days” maybe now -they will modestly substitute “in a few years.” - -They brought me a Yankee soldier’s portfolio from the battle-field. -The letters had been franked by Senator Harlan.[54] One might shed -tears over some of the letters. Women, wives and mothers, are the same -everywhere. What a comfort the spelling was! We had been willing to admit -that their universal free-school education had put them, rank and file, -ahead of us _literarily_, but these letters do not attest that fact. The -spelling is comically bad. - -_July 27th._—Mrs. Davis’s drawing-room last night was brilliant, and -she was in great force. Outside a mob called for the President. He did -speak—an old war-horse, who scents the battle-fields from afar. His -enthusiasm was contagious. They called for Colonel Chesnut, and he gave -them a capital speech, too. As public speakers say sometimes, “It was -the proudest moment of my life.” I did not hear a great deal of it, for -always, when anything happens of any moment, my heart beats up in my -ears, but the distinguished Carolinians who crowded round told me how -good a speech he made. I was dazed. There goes the Dead March for some -poor soul. - -To-day, the President told us at dinner that Mr. Chesnut’s eulogy of -Bartow in the Congress was highly praised. Men liked it. Two eminently -satisfactory speeches in twenty-four hours is doing pretty well. And now -I could be happy, but this Cabinet of ours are in such bitter quarrels -among themselves—everybody abusing everybody. - -Last night, while those splendid descriptions of the battle were being -given to the crowd below from our windows, I said: “Then, why do we -not go on to Washington?” “You mean why did they not; the opportunity -is lost.” Mr. Barnwell said to me: “Silence, we want to listen to the -speaker,” and Mr. Hunter smiled compassionately, “Don’t ask awkward -questions.” - -Kirby Smith came down on the turnpike in the very nick of time. Still, -the heroes who fought all day and held the Yankees in check deserve -credit beyond words, or it would all have been over before the Joe -Johnston contingent came. It is another case of the eleventh-hour scrape; -the eleventh-hour men claim all the credit, and they who bore the heat -and brunt and burden of the day do not like that. - -Everybody said at first, “Pshaw! There will be no war.” Those who foresaw -evil were called ravens, ill-foreboders. Now the same sanguine people all -cry, “The war is over”—the very same who were packing to leave Richmond a -few days ago. Many were ready to move on at a moment’s warning, when the -good news came. There are such owls everywhere. - -But, to revert to the other kind, the sage and circumspect, those who -say very little, but that little shows they think the war barely begun. -Mr. Rives and Mr. Seddon have just called. Arnoldus Van der Horst came -to see me at the same time. He said there was no great show of victory -on our side until two o’clock, but when we began to win, we did it in -double-quick time. I mean, of course, the battle last Sunday. - -Arnold Harris told Mr. Wigfall the news from Washington last Sunday. -For hours the telegrams reported at rapid intervals, “Great victory,” -“Defeating them at all points.” The couriers began to come in on -horseback, and at last, after two or three o’clock, there was a -sudden cessation of all news. About nine messengers with bulletins -came on foot or on horseback—wounded, weary, draggled, footsore, -panic-stricken—spreading in their path on every hand terror and dismay. -That was our opportunity. Wigfall can see nothing that could have stopped -us, and when they explain why we did not go to Washington I understand it -all less than ever. Yet here we will dilly-dally, and Congress orate, and -generals parade, until they in the North get up an army three times as -large as McDowell’s, which we have just defeated. - -Trescott says this victory will be our ruin. It lulls us into a fool’s -paradise of conceit at our superior valor, and the shameful farce of -their flight will wake every inch of their manhood. It was the very -fillip they needed. There are a quieter sort here who know their Yankees -well. They say if the thing begins to pay—government contracts, and all -that—we will never hear the end of it, at least, until they get their pay -in some way out of us. They will not lose money by us. Of that we may be -sure. Trust Yankee shrewdness and vim for that. - -There seems to be a battle raging at Bethel, but no mortal here can be -got to think of anything but Manassas. Mrs. McLean says she does not see -that it was such a great victory, and if it be so great, how can one -defeat hurt a nation like the North. - -John Waties fought the whole battle over for me. Now I understand it. -Before this nobody would take the time to tell the thing consecutively, -rationally, and in order. Mr. Venable said he did not see a braver thing -done than the cool performance of a Columbia negro. He carried his master -a bucket of ham and rice, which he had cooked for him, and he cried: “You -must be so tired and hungry, marster; make haste and eat.” This was in -the thickest of the fight, under the heaviest of the enemy’s guns. - -The Federal Congressmen had been making a picnic of it: their luggage was -all ticketed to Richmond. Cameron has issued a proclamation. They are -making ready to come after us on a magnificent scale. They acknowledge us -at last foemen worthy of their steel. The Lord help us, since England and -France won’t, or don’t. If we could only get a friend outside and open a -port. - -One of these men told me he had seen a Yankee prisoner, who asked him -“what sort of a diggins Richmond was for trade.” He was tired of the old -concern, and would like to take the oath and settle here. They brought us -handcuffs found in the _débacle_ of the Yankee army. For whom were they? -Jeff Davis, no doubt, and the ringleaders. “Tell that to the marines.” We -have outgrown the handcuff business on this side of the water. - -Dr. Gibbes says he was at a country house near Manassas, when a Federal -soldier, who had lost his way, came in exhausted. He asked for brandy, -which the lady of the house gave him. Upon second thought, he declined -it. She brought it to him so promptly he said he thought it might be -poisoned; his mind was; she was enraged, and said: “Sir, I am a Virginia -woman. Do you think I could be as base as that? Here, Bill, Tom, disarm -this man. He is our prisoner.” The negroes came running, and the man -surrendered without more ado. - -Another Federal was drinking at the well. A negro girl said: “You go in -and see Missis.” The man went in and she followed, crying triumphantly: -“Look here, Missis, I got a prisoner, too!” This lady sent in her two -prisoners, and Beauregard complimented her on her pluck and patriotism, -and her presence of mind. These negroes were rewarded by their owners. - -Now if slavery is as disagreeable to negroes as we think it, why don’t -they all march over the border where they would be received with open -arms? It all amazes me. I am always studying these creatures. They are to -me inscrutable in their way and past finding out. Our negroes were not -ripe for John Brown. - -This is how I saw Robert E. Lee for the first time: though his family, -then living at Arlington, called to see me while I was in Washington (I -thought because of old Colonel Chesnut’s intimacy with Nellie Custis in -the old Philadelphia days, Mrs. Lee being Nelly Custis’s niece), I had -not known the head of the Lee family. He was somewhere with the army then. - -Last summer at the White Sulphur were Roony Lee and his wife, that sweet -little Charlotte Wickam, and I spoke of Roony with great praise. Mrs. -Izard said: “Don’t waste your admiration on him; wait till you see his -father. He is the nearest to a perfect man I ever saw.” “How?” “In every -way—handsome, clever, agreeable, high-bred.” - -Now, Mrs. Stanard came for Mrs. Preston and me to drive to the camp in -an open carriage. A man riding a beautiful horse joined us. He wore a -hat with something of a military look to it, sat his horse gracefully, -and was so distinguished at all points that I very much regretted not -catching his name as Mrs. Stanard gave it to us. He, however, heard ours, -and bowed as gracefully as he rode, and the few remarks he made to each -of us showed he knew all about us. - -But Mrs. Stanard was in ecstasies of pleasurable excitement. I felt that -she had bagged a big fish, for just then they abounded in Richmond. Mrs. -Stanard accused him of being ambitious, etc. He remonstrated and said his -tastes were “of the simplest.” He only wanted “a Virginia farm, no end of -cream and fresh butter and fried chicken—not one fried chicken, or two, -but unlimited fried chicken.” - -To all this light chat did we seriously incline, because the man and -horse and everything about him were so fine-looking; perfection, in fact; -no fault to be found if you hunted for it. As he left us, I said eagerly, -“Who is he?” “You did not know! Why, it was Robert E. Lee, son of Light -Horse Harry Lee, the first man in Virginia,” raising her voice as she -enumerated his glories. All the same, I like Smith Lee better, and I like -his looks, too. I know Smith Lee well. Can anybody say they know his -brother? I doubt it. He looks so cold, quiet, and grand. - -[Illustration: A GROUP OF CONFEDERATE GENERALS. - -“STONEWALL” JACKSON. - -ROBERT E. LEE. - -JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON. - -PIERRE G. T. BEAUREGARD. - -JOHN B. HOOD. - -ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON.] - -Kirby Smith is our Blücher; he came on the field in the nick of time, as -Blücher at Waterloo, and now we are as the British, who do not remember -Blücher. It is all Wellington. So every individual man I see fought and -won the battle. From Kershaw up and down, all the eleventh-hour men won -the battle; turned the tide. The Marylanders—Elzey & Co.—one never hears -of—as little as one hears of Blücher in the English stories of Waterloo. - -Mr. Venable was praising Hugh Garden and Kershaw’s regiment generally. -This was delightful. They are my friends and neighbors at home. I showed -him Mary Stark’s letter, and we agreed with her. At the bottom of our -hearts we believe every Confederate soldier to be a hero, _sans peur et -sans reproche_. - -Hope for the best to-day. Things must be on a pleasanter footing all over -the world. Met the President in the corridor. He took me by both hands. -“Have you breakfasted?” said he. “Come in and breakfast with me?” Alas! I -had had my breakfast. - -At the public dining-room, where I had taken my breakfast with Mr. -Chesnut, Mrs. Davis came to him, while we were at table. She said she -had been to our rooms. She wanted Wigfall hunted up. Mr. Davis thought -Chesnut would be apt to know his whereabouts. I ran to Mrs. Wigfall’s -room, who told me she was sure he could be found with his regiment in -camp, but Mr. Chesnut had not to go to the camp, for Wigfall came to his -wife’s room while I was there. Mr. Davis and Wigfall would be friends, -if—if—— - -The Northern papers say we hung and quartered a Zouave; cut him into four -pieces; and that we tie prisoners to a tree and bayonet them. In other -words, we are savages. It ought to teach us not to credit what our papers -say of them. It is so absurd an imagination of evil. We are absolutely -treating their prisoners as well as our own men: we are complained of for -it here. I am going to the hospitals for the enemy’s sick and wounded in -order to see for myself. - -Why did we not follow the flying foe across the Potomac? That is the -question of the hour in the drawing-room with those of us who are not -contending as to “who took Rickett’s Battery?” Allen Green, for one, took -it. Allen told us that, finding a portmanteau with nice clean shirts, he -was so hot and dusty he stepped behind a tree and put on a clean Yankee -shirt, and was more comfortable. - -The New York Tribune soothes the Yankee self-conceit, which has received -a shock, by saying we had 100,000 men on the field at Manassas; we -had about 15,000 effective men in all. And then, the Tribune tries to -inflame and envenom them against us by telling lies as to our treatment -of prisoners. They say when they come against us next it will be in -overwhelming force. I long to see Russell’s letter to the London Times -about Bull Run and Manassas. It will be rich and rare. In Washington, it -is crimination and recrimination. Well, let them abuse one another to -their hearts’ content. - -_August 1st._—Mrs. Wigfall, with the “Lone Star” flag in her carriage, -called for me. We drove to the fair grounds. Mrs. Davis’s landau, with -her spanking bays, rolled along in front of us. The fair grounds are as -covered with tents, soldiers, etc., as ever. As one regiment moves off -to the army, a fresh one from home comes to be mustered in and take its -place. - -The President, with his aides, dashed by. My husband was riding with him. -The President presented the flag to the Texans. Mr. Chesnut came to us -for the flag, and bore it aloft to the President. We seemed to come in -for part of the glory. We were too far off to hear the speech, but Jeff -Davis is very good at that sort of thing, and we were satisfied that it -was well done. - -Heavens! how that redoubtable Wigfall did rush those poor Texans about! -He maneuvered and marched them until I was weary for their sakes. Poor -fellows; it was a hot afternoon in August and the thermometer in the -nineties. Mr. Davis uncovered to speak. Wigfall replied with his hat on. -Is that military? - -At the fair grounds to-day, such music, mustering, and marching, such -cheering and flying of flags, such firing of guns and all that sort of -thing. A gala day it was, with double-distilled Fourth-of-July feeling. -In the midst of it all, a messenger came to tell Mrs. Wigfall that a -telegram had been received, saying her children were safe across the -lines in Gordonsville. That was something to thank God for, without any -doubt. - -These two little girls came from somewhere in Connecticut, with Mrs. -Wigfall’s sister—the one who gave me my Bogotsky, the only person in the -world, except Susan Rutledge who ever seemed to think I had a soul to -save. Now suppose Seward had held Louisa and Fanny as hostages for Louis -Wigfall’s good behavior; eh? - -Excitement number two: that bold brigadier, the Georgia General Toombs, -charging about too recklessly, got thrown. His horse dragged him up to -the wheels of our carriage. For a moment it was frightful. Down there -among the horses’ hoofs was a face turned up toward us, purple with rage. -His foot was still in the stirrup, and he had not let go the bridle. The -horse was prancing over him, tearing and plunging; everybody was hemming -him in, and they seemed so slow and awkward about it. We felt it an -eternity, looking down at him, and expecting him to be killed before our -very faces. However, he soon got it all straight, and, though awfully -tousled and tumbled, dusty, rumpled, and flushed, with redder face and -wilder hair than ever, he rode off gallantly, having to our admiration -bravely remounted the recalcitrant charger. - -Now if I were to pick out the best abused one, where all catch it so -bountifully, I should say Mr. Commissary-General Northrop was the most -“cussed” and vilified man in the Confederacy. He is held accountable for -everything that goes wrong in the army. He may not be efficient, but -having been a classmate and crony of Jeff Davis at West Point, points -the moral and adorns the tale. I hear that alluded to oftenest of his -many crimes. They say Beauregard writes that his army is upon the verge -of starvation. Here every man, woman, and child is ready to hang to the -first lamp-post anybody of whom that army complains. Every Manassas -soldier is a hero dear to our patriotic hearts. Put up with any neglect -of the heroes of the 21st July—never! - -And now they say we did not move on right after the flying foe because -we had no provisions, no wagons, no ammunition, etc. Rain, mud, and -Northrop. Where were the enemy’s supplies that we bragged so of bagging? -Echo answers where? Where there is a will there is a way. We stopped -to plunder that rich convoy, and somehow, for a day or so, everybody -thought the war was over and stopped to rejoice: so it appeared here. -All this was our dinner-table talk to-day. Mr. Mason dined with us and -Mr. Barnwell sits by me always. The latter reproved me sharply, but Mr. -Mason laughed at “this headlong, unreasonable woman’s harangue and female -tactics and their war-ways.” A freshet in the autumn does not compensate -for a drought in the spring. Time and tide wait for no man, and there was -a tide in our affairs which might have led to Washington, and we did not -take it and lost our fortune this round. Things which nobody could deny. - -McClellan virtually supersedes the Titan Scott. Physically General Scott -is the largest man I ever saw. Mrs. Scott said, “nobody but his wife -could ever know how little he was.” And yet they say, old Winfield Scott -could have organized an army for them if they had had patience. They -would not give him time. - -_August 2d._—Prince Jerome[55] has gone to Washington. Now the Yankees so -far are as little trained as we are; raw troops are they as yet. Suppose -France takes the other side and we have to meet disciplined and armed -men, soldiers who understand war, Frenchmen, with all the _élan_ we boast -of. - -Ransom Calhoun, Willie Preston, and Doctor Nott’s boys are here. These -foolish, rash, hare-brained Southern lads have been within an ace of a -fight with a Maryland company for their camping grounds. It is much too -Irish to be so ready to fight anybody, friend or foe. Men are thrilling -with fiery ardor. The red-hot Southern martial spirit is in the air. -These young men, however, were all educated abroad. And it is French or -German ideas that they are filled with. The Marylanders were as rash and -reckless as the others, and had their coat-tails ready for anybody to -tread on, Donnybrook Fair fashion. One would think there were Yankees -enough and to spare for any killing to be done. It began about picketing -their horses. But these quarrelsome young soldiers have lovely manners. -They are so sweet-tempered when seen here among us at the Arlington. - -_August 5th._—A heavy, heavy heart. Another missive from Jordan, -querulous and fault-finding; things are all wrong—Beauregard’s Jordan had -been crossed, not the stream “in Canaan’s fair and happy land, where our -possessions lie.” They seem to feel that the war is over here, except the -President and Mr. Barnwell; above all that foreboding friend of mine, -Captain Ingraham. He thinks it hardly begun. - -Another outburst from Jordan. Beauregard is not seconded properly. -_Hélas!_ To think that any mortal general (even though he had sprung up -in a month or so from captain of artillery to general) could be so puffed -up with vanity, so blinded by any false idea of his own consequence as -to write, to intimate that man, or men, would sacrifice their country, -injure themselves, ruin their families, to spite the aforesaid general! -Conceit and self-assertion can never reach a higher point than that. And -yet they give you to understand Mr. Davis does not like Beauregard. In -point of fact they fancy he is jealous of him, and rather than Beauregard -shall have a showing the President (who would be hanged at least if -things go wrong) will cripple the army to spite Beauregard. Mr. Mallory -says, “How we could laugh, but you see it is no laughing matter to have -our fate in the hands of such self-sufficient, vain, army idiots.” So the -amenities of life are spreading. - -In the meantime we seem to be resting on our oars, debating in Congress, -while the enterprising Yankees are quadrupling their army at their -leisure. Every day some of our regiments march away from here. The town -is crowded with soldiers. These new ones are fairly running in; fearing -the war will be over before they get a sight of the fun. Every man from -every little precinct wants a place in the picture. - -_Tuesday._—The North requires 600,000 men to invade us. Truly we are a -formidable power! The Herald says it is useless to move with a man less -than that. England has made it all up with them, or rather, she will not -break with them. Jerome Napoleon is in Washington and not our friend. - -Doctor Gibbes is a bird of ill omen. To-day he tells me eight of our men -have died at the Charlottesville Hospital. It seems sickness is more -redoubtable in an army than the enemy’s guns. There are 1,100 there _hors -de combat_, and typhoid fever is with them. They want money, clothes, and -nurses. So, as I am writing, right and left the letters fly, calling for -help from the sister societies at home. Good and patriotic women at home -are easily stirred to their work. - -Mary Hammy has many strings to her bow—a _fiancé_ in the army, and Doctor -Berrien in town. To-day she drove out with Major Smith and Colonel Hood. -Yesterday, Custis Lee was here. She is a prudent little puss and needs no -good advice, if I were one to give it. - -Lawrence does all our shopping. All his master’s money has been in his -hands until now. I thought it injudicious when gold is at such a premium -to leave it lying loose in the tray of a trunk. So I have sewed it up in -a belt, which I can wear upon an emergency. The cloth is wadded and my -diamonds are there, too. It has strong strings, and can be tied under my -hoops about my waist if the worst comes to the worst, as the saying is. -Lawrence wears the same bronze mask. No sign of anything he may feel or -think of my latest fancy. Only, I know he asks for twice as much money -now when he goes to buy things. - -_August 8th._—To-day I saw a sword captured at Manassas. The man who -brought the sword, in the early part of the fray, was taken prisoner -by the Yankees. They stripped him, possessed themselves of his -sleeve-buttons, and were in the act of depriving him of his boots when -the rout began and the play was reversed; proceedings then took the -opposite tack. - -From a small rill in the mountain has flowed the mighty stream which -has made at last Louis Wigfall the worst enemy the President has in the -Congress, a fact which complicates our affairs no little. Mr. Davis’s -hands ought to be strengthened; he ought to be upheld. A divided house -must fall, we all say. - -Mrs. Sam Jones, who is called Becky by her friends and cronies, male and -female, said that Mrs. Pickens had confided to the aforesaid Jones (_née_ -Taylor, and so of the President Taylor family and cousin of Mr. Davis’s -first wife), that Mrs. Wigfall “described Mrs. Davis to Mrs. Pickens as -a coarse Western woman.” Now the fair Lucy Holcombe and Mrs. Wigfall had -a quarrel of their own out in Texas, and, though reconciled, there was -bitterness underneath. At first, Mrs. Joe Johnston called Mrs. Davis -“a Western belle,”[56] but when the quarrel between General Johnston -and the President broke out, Mrs. Johnston took back the “belle” and -substituted “woman” in the narrative derived from Mrs. Jones. - -Commodore Barron[57] came with glad tidings. We had taken three prizes -at sea, and brought them in safely, one laden with molasses. General -Toombs told us the President complimented Mr. Chesnut when he described -the battle scene to his Cabinet, etc. General Toombs is certain Colonel -Chesnut will be made one of the new batch of brigadiers. Next came Mr. -Clayton, who calmly informed us Jeff Davis would not get the vote of this -Congress for President, so we might count him out. - -Mr. Meynardie first told us how pious a Christian soldier was Kershaw, -how he prayed, got up, dusted his knees and led his men on to victory -with a dash and courage equal to any Old Testament mighty man of war. - -Governor Manning’s account of Prince Jerome Napoleon: “He is stout and -he is not handsome. Neither is he young, and as he reviewed our troops -he was terribly overheated.” He heard him say “_en avant_,” of that he -could testify of his own knowledge, and he was told he had been heard to -say with unction “_Allons_” more than once. The sight of the battle-field -had made the Prince seasick, and he received gratefully a draft of fiery -whisky. - -Arrago seemed deeply interested in Confederate statistics, and praised -our doughty deeds to the skies. It was but soldier fare our guests -received, though we did our best. It was hard sleeping and worse eating -in camp. Beauregard is half Frenchman and speaks French like a native. -So one awkward mess was done away with, and it was a comfort to see -Beauregard speak without the agony of finding words in the foreign -language and forming them, with damp brow, into sentences. A different -fate befell others who spoke “a little French.” - -General and Mrs. Cooper came to see us. She is Mrs. Smith Lee’s sister. -They were talking of old George Mason—in Virginia a name to conjure -with. George Mason violently opposed the extension of slavery. He was a -thorough aristocrat, and gave as his reason for refusing the blessing of -slaves to the new States, Southwest and Northwest, that vulgar new people -were unworthy of so sacred a right as that of holding slaves. It was not -an institution intended for such people as they were. Mrs. Lee said: -“After all, what good does it do my sons that they are Light Horse Harry -Lee’s grandsons and George Mason’s? I do not see that it helps them at -all.” - -A friend in Washington writes me that we might have walked into -Washington any day for a week after Manassas, such were the consternation -and confusion there. But the god Pan was still blowing his horn in the -woods. Now she says Northern troops are literally pouring in from all -quarters. The horses cover acres of ground. And she thinks we have lost -our chance forever. - -A man named Grey (the same gentleman whom Secretary of War Walker so -astonished by greeting him with, “Well, sir, and what is your business?”) -described the battle of the 21st as one succession of blunders, redeemed -by the indomitable courage of the two-thirds who did not run away on our -side. Doctor Mason said a fugitive on the other side informed him that “a -million of men with the devil at their back could not have whipped the -rebels at Bull Run.” That’s nice. - -There must be opposition in a free country. But it is very uncomfortable. -“United we stand, divided we fall.” Mrs. Davis showed us in The New -York Tribune an extract from an Augusta (Georgia) paper saying, “Cobb -is our man. Davis is at heart a reconstructionist.” We may be flies on -the wheel, we know our insignificance; but Mrs. Preston and myself have -entered into an agreement; our oath is recorded on high. We mean to stand -by our President and to stop all fault-finding with the powers that be, -if we can and where we can, be the fault-finders generals or Cabinet -Ministers. - -_August 13th._—Hon. Robert Barnwell says, “The Mercury’s influence began -this opposition to Jeff Davis before he had time to do wrong. They -were offended, not with him so much as with the man who was put into -what they considered Barnwell Rhett’s rightful place. The latter had -howled nullification and secession so long that when he found his ideas -taken up by all the Confederate world, he felt he had a vested right to -leadership.” - -Jordan, Beauregard’s aide, still writes to Mr. Chesnut that the mortality -among the raw troops in that camp is fearful. Everybody seems to be doing -all they can. Think of the British sick and wounded away off in the -Crimea. Our people are only a half-day’s journey by rail from Richmond. -With a grateful heart I record the fact of reconciliation with the -Wigfalls. They dined at the President’s yesterday and the little Wigfall -girls stayed all night. - -Seward is fêting the outsiders, the cousin of the Emperor, Napoleon III., -and Russell, of the omnipotent London Times. - -_August 14th._—Last night there was a crowd of men to see us and they -were so markedly critical. I made a futile effort to record their -sayings, but sleep and heat overcame me. To-day I can not remember a -word. One of Mr. Mason’s stories relates to our sources of trustworthy -information. A man of very respectable appearance standing on the -platform at the depot, announced, “I am just from the seat of war.” Out -came pencil and paper from the newspaper men on the _qui vive_. “Is -Fairfax Court House burned?” they asked. “Yes, burned yesterday.” “But I -am just from there,” said another; “left it standing there all right an -hour or so ago.” “Oh! But I must do them justice to say they burned only -the tavern, for they did not want to tear up and burn anything else after -the railroad.” “There is no railroad at Fairfax Court House,” objected -the man just from Fairfax. “Oh! Indeed!” said the seat-of-war man, “I -did not know that; is that so?” And he coolly seated himself and began -talking of something else. - -Our people are lashing themselves into a fury against the prisoners. Only -the mob in any country would do that. But I am told to be quiet. Decency -and propriety will not be forgotten, and the prisoners will be treated as -prisoners of war ought to be in a civilized country. - -_August 15th._—Mrs. Randolph came. With her were the Freelands, Rose -and Maria. The men rave over Mrs. Randolph’s beauty; called her a -magnificent specimen of the finest type of dark-eyed, rich, and glowing -Southern woman-kind. Clear brunette she is, with the reddest lips, the -whitest teeth, and glorious eyes; there is no other word for them. Having -given Mrs. Randolph the prize among Southern beauties, Mr. Clayton said -Prentiss was the finest Southern orator. Mr. Marshall and Mr. Barnwell -dissented; they preferred William C. Preston. Mr. Chesnut had found -Colquitt the best or most effective stump orator. - -Saw Henry Deas Nott. He is just from Paris, via New York. Says New York -is ablaze with martial fire. At no time during the Crimean war was there -ever in Paris the show of soldiers preparing for the war such as he saw -at New York. The face of the earth seemed covered with marching regiments. - -Not more than 500 effective men are in Hampton’s Legion, but they kept -the whole Yankee army at bay until half-past two. Then just as Hampton -was wounded and half his colonels shot, Cash and Kershaw (from Mrs. Smith -Lee audibly, “How about Kirby Smith?”) dashed in and not only turned the -tide, but would have driven the fugitives into Washington, but Beauregard -recalled them. Mr. Chesnut finds all this very amusing, as he posted many -of the regiments and all the time was carrying orders over the field. -The discrepancies in all these private memories amuse him, but he smiles -pleasantly and lets every man tell the tale in his own way. - -_August 16th._—Mr. Barnwell says, Fame is an article usually home made; -you must create your own puffs or superintend their manufacture. And you -must see that the newspapers print your own military reports. No one else -will give you half the credit you take to yourself. No one will look -after your fine name before the world with the loving interest and faith -you have yourself. - -_August 17th._—Captain Shannon, of the Kirkwood Rangers, called and -stayed three hours. Has not been under fire yet, but is keen to see or to -hear the flashing of the guns; proud of himself, proud of his company, -but proudest of all that he has no end of the bluest blood of the low -country in his troop. He seemed to find my knitting a pair of socks a day -for the soldiers droll in some way. The yarn is coarse. He has been so -short a time from home he does not know how the poor soldiers need them. -He was so overpoweringly flattering to my husband that I found him very -pleasant company. - -_August 18th._—Found it quite exciting to have a spy drinking his tea -with us—perhaps because I knew his profession. I did not like his face. -He is said to have a scheme by which Washington will fall into our hands -like an overripe peach. - -Mr. Barnwell urges Mr. Chesnut to remain in the Senate. There are so many -generals, or men anxious to be. He says Mr. Chesnut can do his country -most good by wise counsels where they are most needed. I do not say to -the contrary; I dare not throw my influence on the army side, for if -anything happened! - -Mr. Miles told us last night that he had another letter from General -Beauregard. The General wants to know if Mr. Miles has delivered his -message to Colonel Kershaw. Mr. Miles says he has not done so; neither -does he mean to do it. They must settle these matters of veracity -according to their own military etiquette. He is a civilian once more. -It is a foolish wrangle. Colonel Kershaw ought to have reported to his -commander-in-chief, and not made an independent report and published it. -He meant no harm. He is not yet used to the fine ways of war. - -The New York Tribune is so unfair. It began by howling to get rid of us: -we were so wicked. Now that we are so willing to leave them to their -overrighteous self-consciousness, they cry: “Crush our enemy, or they -will subjugate us.” The idea that we want to invade or subjugate anybody; -we would be only too grateful to be left alone. We ask no more of gods or -men. - -Went to the hospital with a carriage load of peaches and grapes. Made -glad the hearts of some men thereby. When my supplies gave out, those who -had none looked so wistfully as I passed out that I made a second raid on -the market. Those eyes sunk in cavernous depths and following me from bed -to bed haunt me. - -Wilmot de Saussure, harrowed my soul by an account of a recent death by -drowning on the beach at Sullivan’s Island. Mr. Porcher, who was trying -to save his sister’s life, lost his own and his child’s. People seem to -die out of the army quite as much as in it. - -Mrs. Randolph presided in all her beautiful majesty at an aid -association. The ladies were old, and all wanted their own way. They were -cross-grained and contradictory, and the blood mounted rebelliously into -Mrs. Randolph’s clear-cut cheeks, but she held her own with dignity and -grace. One of the causes of disturbance was that Mrs. Randolph proposed -to divide everything sent on equally with the Yankee wounded and sick -prisoners. Some were enthusiastic from a Christian point of view; some -shrieked in wrath at the bare idea of putting our noble soldiers on a par -with Yankees, living, dying, or dead. Fierce dames were some of them, -august, severe matrons, who evidently had not been accustomed to hear the -other side of any question from anybody, and just old enough to find the -last pleasure in life to reside in power—the power to make their claws -felt. - -_August 23d._—A brother of Doctor Garnett has come fresh and straight -from Cambridge, Mass., and says (or is said to have said, with all the -difference there is between the two), that “recruiting up there is dead.” -He came by Cincinnati and Pittsburg and says all the way through it was -so sad, mournful, and quiet it looked like Sunday. - -I asked Mr. Brewster if it were true Senator Toombs had turned brigadier. -“Yes, soldiering is in the air. Every one will have a touch of it. Toombs -could not stay in the Cabinet.” “Why?” “Incompatibility of temper. He -rides too high a horse; that is, for so despotic a person as Jeff Davis. -I have tried to find out the sore, but I can’t. Mr. Toombs has been out -with them all for months.” Dissension will break out. Everything does, -but it takes a little time. There is a perfect magazine of discord and -discontent in that Cabinet; only wants a hand to apply the torch, and up -they go. Toombs says old Memminger has his back up as high as any. - -Oh, such a day! Since I wrote this morning, I have been with Mrs. -Randolph to all the hospitals. I can never again shut out of view the -sights I saw there of human misery. I sit thinking, shut my eyes, and -see it all; thinking, yes, and there is enough to think about now, God -knows. Gilland’s was the worst, with long rows of ill men on cots, ill of -typhoid fever, of every human ailment; on dinner-tables for eating and -drinking, wounds being dressed; all the horrors to be taken in at one -glance. - -Then we went to the St. Charles. Horrors upon horrors again; want of -organization, long rows of dead and dying; awful sights. A boy from home -had sent for me. He was dying in a cot, ill of fever. Next him a man died -in convulsions as we stood there. I was making arrangements with a nurse, -hiring him to take care of this lad; but I do not remember any more, for -I fainted. Next that I knew of, the doctor and Mrs. Randolph were having -me, a limp rag, put into a carriage at the door of the hospital. Fresh -air, I dare say, brought me to. As we drove home the doctor came along -with us, I was so upset. He said: “Look at that Georgia regiment marching -there; look at their servants on the sidewalk. I have been counting them, -making an estimate. There is $16,000—sixteen thousand dollars’ worth of -negro property which can go off on its own legs to the Yankees whenever -it pleases.” - -_August 24th._—Daniel, of The Examiner, was at the President’s. Wilmot -de Saussure wondered if a fellow did not feel a little queer, paying his -respects in person at the house of a man whom he abused daily in his -newspaper. - -A fiasco: an aide engaged to two young ladies in the same house. The -ladies had been quarreling, but became friends unexpectedly when his -treachery, among many other secrets, was revealed under that august roof. -Fancy the row when it all came out. - -Mr. Lowndes said we have already reaped one good result from the war. The -orators, the spouters, the furious patriots, that could hardly be held -down, and who were so wordily anxious to do or die for their country—they -had been the pest of our lives. Now they either have not tried the -battle-field at all, or have precipitately left it at their earliest -convenience: for very shame we are rid of them for a while. I doubt it. -Bright’s speech[58] is dead against us. Reading this does not brighten -one. - -_August 25th._—Mr. Barnwell says democracies lead to untruthfulness. -To be always electioneering is to be always false; so both we and the -Yankees are unreliable as regards our own exploits. “How about empires? -Were there ever more stupendous lies than the Emperor Napoleon’s?” Mr. -Barnwell went on: “People dare not tell the truth in a canvass; they must -conciliate their constituents. Now everybody in a democracy always wants -an office; at least, everybody in Richmond just now seems to want one.” -Never heeding interruptions, he went on: “As a nation, the English are -the most truthful in the world.” “And so are our country gentlemen: they -own their constituents—at least, in some of the parishes, where there are -few whites; only immense estates peopled by negroes.” Thackeray speaks of -the lies that were told on both sides in the British wars with France; -England kept quite alongside of her rival in that fine art. England lied -then as fluently as Russell lies about us now. - -Went to see Agnes De Leon, my Columbia school friend. She is fresh from -Egypt, and I wished to hear of the Nile, the crocodiles, the mummies, the -Sphinx, and the Pyramids. But her head ran upon Washington life, such as -we knew it, and her soul was here. No theme was possible but a discussion -of the latest war news. - -Mr. Clayton, Assistant Secretary of State, says we spend two millions a -week. Where is all that money to come from? They don’t want us to plant -cotton, but to make provisions. Now, cotton always means money, or did -when there was an outlet for it and anybody to buy it. Where is money to -come from now? - -Mr. Barnwell’s new joke, I dare say, is a Joe Miller, but Mr. Barnwell -laughed in telling it till he cried. A man was fined for contempt of -court and then, his case coming on, the Judge talked such arrant nonsense -and was so warped in his mind against the poor man, that the “fined one” -walked up and handed the august Judge a five-dollar bill. “Why? What -is that for?” said the Judge. “Oh, I feel such a contempt of this court -coming on again!” - -I came up tired to death; took down my hair; had it hanging over me in a -Crazy Jane fashion; and sat still, hands over my head (half undressed, -but too lazy and sleepy to move). I was sitting in a rocking-chair by an -open window taking my ease and the cool night air, when suddenly the door -opened and Captain —— walked in. He was in the middle of the room before -he saw his mistake; he stared and was transfixed, as the novels say. I -dare say I looked an ancient Gorgon. Then, with a more frantic glare, he -turned and fled without a word. I got up and bolted the door after him, -and then looked in the glass and laughed myself into hysterics. I shall -never forget to lock the door again. But it does not matter in this case. -I looked totally unlike the person bearing my name, who, covered with -lace cap, etc., frequents the drawing-room. I doubt if he would know me -again. - -_August 26th._—The Terror has full swing at the North now. All the papers -favorable to us have been suppressed. How long would our mob stand a -Yankee paper here? But newspapers against our government, such as the -Examiner and the Mercury flourish like green bay-trees. A man up to the -elbows in finance said to-day: “Clayton’s story is all nonsense. They do -sometimes pay out two millions a week; they paid the soldiers this week, -but they don’t pay the soldiers every week.” “Not by a long shot,” cried -a soldier laddie with a grin. - -“Why do you write in your diary at all,” some one said to me, “if, as you -say, you have to contradict every day what you wrote yesterday?” “Because -I tell the tale as it is told to me. I write current rumor. I do not -vouch for anything.” - -We went to Pizzini’s, that very best of Italian confectioners. From there -we went to Miss Sally Tompkins’s hospital, loaded with good things for -the wounded. The men under Miss Sally’s kind care looked so clean and -comfortable—cheerful, one might say. They were pleasant and nice to see. -One, however, was dismal in tone and aspect, and he repeated at intervals -with no change of words, in a forlorn monotone: “What a hard time we have -had since we left home.” But nobody seemed to heed his wailing, and it -did not impair his appetite. - -At Mrs. Toombs’s, who was raging; so anti-Davis she will not even admit -that the President is ill. “All humbug.” “But what good could pretending -to be ill do him?” “That reception now, was not that a humbug? Such a -failure. Mrs. Reagan could have done better than that.” - -Mrs. Walker is a Montgomery beauty, with such magnificent dresses. She -was an heiress, and is so dissatisfied with Richmond, accustomed as she -is to being a belle under different conditions. As she is as handsome and -well dressed as ever, it must be the men who are all wrong. - -“Did you give Lawrence that fifty-dollar bill to go out and change it?” I -was asked. “Suppose he takes himself off to the Yankees. He would leave -us with not too many fifty-dollar bills.” He is not going anywhere, -however. I think his situation suits him. That wadded belt of mine, with -the gold pieces quilted in, has made me ashamed more than once. I leave -it under my pillow and my maid finds it there and hangs it over the back -of a chair, in evidence as I reenter the room after breakfast. When I -forget and leave my trunk open, Lawrence brings me the keys and tells -me, “You oughten to do so, Miss Mary.” Mr. Chesnut leaves all his little -money in his pockets, and Lawrence says that’s why he can’t let any one -but himself brush Mars Jeems’s clothes. - -_August 27th._—Theodore Barker and James Lowndes came; the latter has -been wretchedly treated. A man said, “All that I wish on earth is to be -at peace and on my own plantation,” to which Mr. Lowndes replied quietly, -“I wish I had a plantation to be on, but just now I can’t see how any -one would feel justified in leaving the army.” Mr. Barker was bitter -against the spirit of braggadocio so rampant among us. The gentleman who -had been answered so completely by James Lowndes said, with spitefulness: -“Those women who are so frantic for their husbands to join the army would -like them killed, no doubt.” - -Things were growing rather uncomfortable, but an interruption came in -the shape of a card. An old classmate of Mr. Chesnut’s—Captain Archer, -just now fresh from California—followed his card so quickly that Mr. -Chesnut had hardly time to tell us that in Princeton College they called -him “Sally” Archer he was so pretty—when he entered. He is good-looking -still, but the service and consequent rough life have destroyed all -softness and girlishness. He will never be so pretty again. - -The North is consolidated; they move as one man, with no States, but an -army organized by the central power. Russell in the Northern camp is -cursed of Yankees for that Bull Run letter. Russell, in his capacity -of Englishman, despises both sides. He divides us equally into North -and South. He prefers to attribute our victory at Bull Run to Yankee -cowardice rather than to Southern courage. He gives no credit to either -side; for good qualities, we are after all mere Americans! Everything not -“national” is arrested. It looks like the business of Seward. - -I do not know when I have seen a woman without knitting in her hand. -Socks for the soldiers is the cry. One poor man said he had dozens of -socks and but one shirt. He preferred more shirts and fewer stockings. -We make a quaint appearance with this twinkling of needles and the -everlasting sock dangling below. - -They have arrested Wm. B. Reed and Miss Winder, she boldly proclaiming -herself a secessionist. Why should she seek a martyr’s crown? Writing -people love notoriety. It is so delightful to be of enough consequence to -be arrested. I have often wondered if such incense was ever offered as -Napoleon’s so-called persecution and alleged jealousy of Madame de Staël. - - * * * * * - -Russell once more, to whom London, Paris, and India have been an -every-day sight, and every-night, too, streets and all. How absurd for -him to go on in indignation because there have been women on negro -plantations who were not vestal virgins. Negro women get married, and -after marriage behave as well as other people. Marrying is the amusement -of their lives. They take life easily; so do their class everywhere. Bad -men are hated here as elsewhere. - -“I hate slavery. I hate a man who—You say there are no more fallen women -on a plantation than in London in proportion to numbers. But what do -you say to this—to a magnate who runs a hideous black harem, with its -consequences, under the same roof with his lovely white wife and his -beautiful and accomplished daughters? He holds his head high and poses -as the model of all human virtues to these poor women whom God and the -laws have given him. From the height of his awful majesty he scolds and -thunders at them as if he never did wrong in his life. Fancy such a man -finding his daughter reading Don Juan. ‘You with that immoral book!’ -he would say, and then he would order her out of his sight. You see -Mrs. Stowe did not hit the sorest spot. She makes Legree a bachelor.” -“Remember George II. and his likes.” - -“Oh, I know half a Legree—a man said to be as cruel as Legree, but the -other half of him did not correspond. He was a man of polished manners, -and the best husband and father and member of the church in the world.” -“Can that be so?” - -“Yes, I know it. Exceptional case, that sort of thing, always. And I -knew the dissolute half of Legree well. He was high and mighty, but the -kindest creature to his slaves. And the unfortunate results of his bad -ways were not sold, had not to jump over ice-blocks. They were kept in -full view, and provided for handsomely in his will.” - -“The wife and daughters in the might of their purity and innocence are -supposed never to dream of what is as plain before their eyes as the -sunlight, and they play their parts of unsuspecting angels to the letter. -They profess to adore the father as the model of all saintly goodness.” -“Well, yes; if he is rich he is the fountain from whence all blessings -flow.” - -“The one I have in my eye—my half of Legree, the dissolute half—was so -furious in temper and thundered his wrath so at the poor women, they -were glad to let him do as he pleased in peace if they could only escape -his everlasting fault-finding, and noisy bluster, making everybody so -uncomfortable.” “Now—now, do you know any woman of this generation who -would stand that sort of thing? No, never, not for one moment. The -make-believe angels were of the last century. We know, and we won’t have -it.” - -“The condition of women is improving, it seems.” “Women are brought up -not to judge their fathers or their husbands. They take them as the Lord -provides and are thankful.” - -“If they should not go to heaven after all; think what lives most women -lead.” “No heaven, no purgatory, no—the other thing? Never. I believe in -future rewards and punishments.” - -“How about the wives of drunkards! I heard a woman say once to a friend -of her husband, tell it as a cruel matter of fact, without bitterness, -without comment, ‘Oh, you have not seen him! He has changed. He has not -gone to bed sober in thirty years.’ She has had her purgatory, if not -‘the other thing,’ here in this world. We all know what a drunken man -is. To think, _for no crime_, a person may be condemned to live with -one thirty years.” “You wander from the question I asked. Are Southern -men worse because of the slave system and the facile black women?” “Not -a bit. They see too much of them. The barroom people don’t drink, the -confectionery people loathe candy. They are sick of the black sight of -them.” - -“You think a nice man from the South is the nicest thing in the world?” -“I know it. Put him by any other man and see!” - - * * * * * - -Have seen Yankee letters taken at Manassas. The spelling is often -atrocious, and we thought they had all gone through a course of -blue-covered Noah Webster spelling-books. Our soldiers do spell -astonishingly. There is Horace Greeley: they say he can’t read his own -handwriting. But he is candid enough and disregards all time-serving. He -says in his paper that in our army the North has a hard nut to crack, and -that the rank and file of our army is superior in education and general -intelligence to theirs. - -My wildest imagination will not picture Mr. Mason[59] as a diplomat. He -will say chaw for chew, and he will call himself Jeems, and he will wear -a dress coat to breakfast. Over here, whatever a Mason does is right in -his own eyes. He is above law. Somebody asked him how he pronounced his -wife’s maiden name: she was a Miss Chew from Philadelphia. - -They say the English will like Mr. Mason; he is so manly, so -straightforward, so truthful and bold. “A fine old English gentleman,” -so said Russell to me, “but for tobacco.” “I like Mr. Mason and Mr. -Hunter better than anybody else.” “And yet they are wonderfully unlike.” -“Now you just listen to me,” said I. “Is Mrs. Davis in hearing—no? Well, -this sending Mr. Mason to London is the maddest thing yet. Worse in some -points of view than Yancey, and that was a catastrophe.” - -_August 29th._—No more feminine gossip, but the licensed slanderer, the -mighty Russell, of the Times. He says the battle of the 21st was fought -at long range: 500 yards apart were the combatants. The Confederates were -steadily retreating when some commotion in the wagon train frightened the -“Yanks,” and they made tracks. In good English, they fled amain. And on -our side we were too frightened to follow them—in high-flown English, to -pursue the flying foe. - -In spite of all this, there are glimpses of the truth sometimes, and the -story leads to our credit with all the sneers and jeers. When he speaks -of the Yankees’ cowardice, falsehood, dishonesty, and braggadocio, the -best words are in his mouth. He repeats the thrice-told tale, so often -refuted and denied, that we were harsh to wounded prisoners. Dr. Gibson -told me that their surgeon-general has written to thank our surgeons: -Yankee officers write very differently from Russell. I know that in that -hospital with the Sisters of Charity they were better off than our men -were at the other hospitals: that I saw with my own eyes. These poor -souls are jealously guarded night and day. It is a hideous tale—what they -tell of their sufferings. - -Women who come before the public are in a bad box now. False hair is -taken off and searched for papers. Bustles are “suspect.” All manner of -things, they say, come over the border under the huge hoops now worn; -so they are ruthlessly torn off. Not legs but arms are looked for -under hoops, and, sad to say, found. Then women are used as detectives -and searchers, to see that no men slip over in petticoats. So the poor -creatures coming this way are humiliated to the deepest degree. To -men, glory, honor, praise, and power, if they are patriots. To women, -daughters of Eve, punishment comes still in some shape, do what they will. - -Mary Hammy’s eyes were starting from her head with amazement, while a -very large and handsome South Carolinian talked rapidly. “What is it?” -asked I after he had gone. “Oh, what a year can bring forth—one year! -Last summer you remember how he swore he was in love with me? He told -you, he told me, he told everybody, and if I did refuse to marry him I -believed him. Now he says he has seen, fallen in love with, courted, and -married another person, and he raves of his little daughter’s beauty. And -they say time goes slowly”—thus spoke Mary Hammy, with a sigh of wonder -at his wonderful cure. - -“Time works wonders,” said the explainer-general. “What conclusion did -you come to as to Southern men at the grand pow-wow, you know?” “They are -nicer than the nicest—the gentlemen, you know. There are not too many of -that kind anywhere. Ours are generous, truthful, brave, and—and—devoted -to us, you know. A Southern husband is not a bad thing to have about the -house.” - -Mrs. Frank Hampton said: “For one thing, you could not flirt with these -South Carolinians. They would not stay at the tepid degree of flirtation. -They grow so horridly in earnest before you know where you are.” “Do you -think two married people ever lived together without finding each other -out? I mean, knowing exactly how good or how shabby, how weak or how -strong, above all, how selfish each was?” “Yes; unless they are dolts, -they know to a tittle; but you see if they have common sense they make -believe and get on, so so.” Like the Marchioness’s orange-peel wine in -Old Curiosity Shop. - -A violent attack upon the North to-day in the Albion. They mean to let -freedom slide a while until they subjugate us. The Albion says they use -_lettres de cachet_, passports, and all the despotic apparatus of regal -governments. Russell hears the tramp of the coming man—the king and -kaiser tyrant that is to rule them. Is it McClellan?—“Little Mac”? We may -tremble when he comes. We down here have only “the many-headed monster -thing,” armed democracy. Our chiefs quarrel among themselves. - -McClellan is of a forgiving spirit. He does not resent Russell’s slurs -upon Yankees, but with good policy has Russell with him as a guest. - -The Adonis of an aide avers, as one who knows, that “Sumter” Anderson’s -heart is with us; that he will not fight the South. After all is said and -done that sounds like nonsense. “Sumter” Anderson’s wife was a daughter -of Governor Clinch, of Georgia. Does that explain it? He also told me -something of Garnett (who was killed at Rich Mountain).[60] He had been -an unlucky man clear through. In the army before the war, the aide had -found him proud, reserved, and morose, cold as an icicle to all. But for -his wife and child he was a different creature. He adored them and cared -for nothing else. - -One day he went off on an expedition and was gone six weeks. He was out -in the Northwest, and the Indians were troublesome. When he came back, -his wife and child were underground. He said not one word, but they found -him more frozen, stern, and isolated than ever; that was all. The night -before he left Richmond he said in his quiet way: “They have not given me -an adequate force. I can do nothing. They have sent me to my death.” It -is acknowledged that he threw away his life—“a dreary-hearted man,” said -the aide, “and the unluckiest.” - - * * * * * - -On the front steps every evening we take our seats and discourse at our -pleasure. A nicer or more agreeable set of people were never assembled -than our present Arlington crowd. To-night it was Yancey[61] who occupied -our tongues. Send a man to England who had killed his father-in-law in -a street brawl! That was not knowing England or Englishmen, surely. Who -wants eloquence? We want somebody who can hold his tongue. People avoid -great talkers, men who orate, men given to monologue, as they would avoid -fire, famine, or pestilence. Yancey will have no mobs to harangue. No -stump speeches will be possible, superb as are his of their kind, but -little quiet conversation is best with slow, solid, common-sense people, -who begin to suspect as soon as any flourish of trumpets meets their ear. -If Yancey should use his fine words, who would care for them over there? - -Commodore Barron, when he was a middy, accompanied Phil Augustus Stockton -to claim his bride. He, the said Stockton, had secretly wedded a fair -heiress (Sally Cantey). She was married by a magistrate and returned to -Mrs. Grillaud’s boarding-school until it was time to go home—that is, to -Camden. - -Lieutenant Stockton (a descendant of the Signer) was the handsomest man -in the navy, and irresistible. The bride was barely sixteen. When he was -to go down South among those fire-eaters and claim her, Commodore Barron, -then his intimate friend, went as his backer. They were to announce the -marriage and defy the guardians. Commodore Barron said he anticipated a -rough job of it all, but they were prepared for all risks. “You expected -to find us a horde of savages, no doubt,” said I. “We did not expect to -get off under a half-dozen duels.” They looked for insults from every -quarter and they found a polished and refined people who lived _en -prince_, to say the least of it. They were received with a cold, stately, -and faultless politeness, which made them feel as if they had been -sheep-stealing. - -The young lady had confessed to her guardians and they were for making -the best of it; above all, for saving her name from all gossip or -publicity. Colonel John Boykin, one of them, took Young Lochinvar to stay -with him. His friend, Barron, was also a guest. Colonel Deas sent for a -parson, and made assurance doubly sure by marrying them over again. Their -wish was to keep things quiet and not to make a nine-days’ wonder of the -young lady. - -Then came balls, parties, and festivities without end. He was enchanted -with the easy-going life of these people, with dinners the finest in the -world, deer-hunting, and fox-hunting, dancing, and pretty girls, in fact -everything that heart could wish. But then, said Commodore Barron, “the -better it was, and the kinder the treatment, the more ashamed I grew of -my business down there. After all, it was stealing an heiress, you know.” - -I told him how the same fate still haunted that estate in Camden. Mr. -Stockton sold it to a gentleman, who later sold it to an old man who -had married when near eighty, and who left it to the daughter born of -that marriage. This pretty child of his old age was left an orphan -quite young. At the age of fifteen, she ran away and married a boy -of seventeen, a canny Scotchman. The young couple lived to grow up, -and it proved after all a happy marriage. This last heiress left six -children; so the estate will now be divided, and no longer tempt the -fortune-hunters. - -The Commodore said: “To think how we two youngsters in our blue uniforms -went down there to bully those people.” He was much at Colonel Chesnut’s. -Mrs. Chesnut being a Philadelphian, he was somewhat at ease with them. It -was the most thoroughly appointed establishment he had then ever visited. - - * * * * * - -Went with our leviathan of loveliness to a ladies’ meeting. No scandal -to-day, no wrangling, all harmonious, everybody knitting. Dare say that -soothing occupation helped our perturbed spirits to be calm. Mrs. C—— -is lovely, a perfect beauty. Said Brewster: “In Circassia, think what a -price would be set upon her, for there beauty sells by the pound!” - -Coming home the following conversation: “So Mrs. Blank thinks purgatory -will hold its own—never be abolished while women and children have to -live with drunken fathers and brothers.” “She knows.” “She is too bitter. -She says worse than that. She says we have an institution worse than the -Spanish Inquisition, worse than Torquemada, and all that sort of thing.” -“What does she mean?” “You ask her. Her words are sharp arrows. I am a -dull creature, and I should spoil all by repeating what she says.” - -“It is your own family that she calls the familiars of the Inquisition. -She declares that they set upon you, fall foul of you, watch and harass -you from morn till dewy eve. They have a perfect right to your life, -night and day, unto the fourth and fifth generation. They drop in at -breakfast and say, ‘Are you not imprudent to eat that?’ ‘Take care now, -don’t overdo it.’ ‘I think you eat too much so early in the day.’ And -they help themselves to the only thing you care for on the table. They -abuse your friends and tell you it is your duty to praise your enemies. -They tell you of all your faults candidly, because they love you so; that -gives them a right to speak. What family interest they take in you. You -ought to do this; you ought to do that, and then the everlasting ‘you -ought to have done,’ which comes near making you a murderer, at least in -heart. ‘Blood’s thicker than water,’ they say, and there is where the -longing to spill it comes in. No locks or bolts or bars can keep them -out. Are they not your nearest family? They dine with you, dropping in -after you are at soup. They come after you have gone to bed, when all the -servants have gone away, and the man of the house, in his nightshirt, -standing sternly at the door with the huge wooden bar in his hand, nearly -scares them to death, and you are glad of it.” - -“Private life, indeed!” She says her husband entered public life and -they went off to live in a far-away city. Then for the first time in her -life she knew privacy. She never will forget how she jumped for joy as -she told her servant not to admit a soul until after two o’clock in the -day. Afterward, she took a fixed day at home. Then she was free indeed. -She could read and write, stay at home, go out at her own sweet will, -no longer sitting for hours with her fingers between the leaves of a -frantically interesting book, while her kin slowly driveled nonsense -by the yard—waiting, waiting, yawning. Would they never go? Then for -hurting you, who is like a relative? They do it from a sense of duty. -For stinging you, for cutting you to the quick, who like one of your own -household? In point of fact, they alone can do it. They know the sore, -and how to hit it every time. You are in their power. She says, did you -ever see a really respectable, responsible, revered and beloved head of a -family who ever opened his mouth at home except to find fault? He really -thinks that is his business in life and that all enjoyment is sinful. He -is there to prevent the women from such frivolous things as pleasure, -etc., etc. - -I sat placidly rocking in my chair by the window, trying to hope all was -for the best. Mary Hammy rushed in literally drowned in tears. I never -saw so drenched a face in my life. My heart stopped still. “Commodore -Barron is taken prisoner,” said she. “The Yankees have captured him -and all his lieutenants. Poor Imogen—and there is my father scouting -about, the Lord knows where. I only know he is in the advance guard. The -Barron’s time has come. Mine may come any minute. Oh, Cousin Mary, when -Mrs. Lee told Imogen, she fainted! Those poor girls; they are nearly dead -with trouble and fright.” - -“Go straight back to those children,” I said. “Nobody will touch a hair -of their father’s head. Tell them I say so. They dare not. They are not -savages quite. This is a civilized war, you know.” - -Mrs. Lee said to Mrs. Eustis (Mr. Corcoran’s daughter) yesterday: “Have -you seen those accounts of arrests in Washington?” Mrs. Eustis answered -calmly: “Yes, I know all about it. I suppose you allude to the fact that -my father has been imprisoned.” “No, no,” interrupted the explainer, -“she means the incarceration of those mature Washington belles suspected -as spies.” But Mrs. Eustis continued, “I have no fears for my father’s -safety.” - -_August 31st._—Congress adjourns to-day. Jeff Davis ill. We go home on -Monday if I am able to travel. Already I feel the dread stillness and -torpor of our Sahara of a Sand Hill creeping into my veins. It chills the -marrow of my bones. I am reveling in the noise of city life. I know what -is before me. Nothing more cheering than the cry of the lone whippoorwill -will break the silence at Sandy Hill, except as night draws near, when -the screech-owl will add his mournful note. - -_September 1st._—North Carolina writes for arms for her soldiers. Have we -any to send? No. Brewster, the plain-spoken, says, “The President is ill, -and our affairs are in the hands of noodles. All the generals away with -the army; nobody here; General Lee in Western Virginia. Reading the third -Psalm. The devil is sick, the devil a saint would be. Lord, how are they -increased that trouble me? Many are they that rise up against me!” - -_September 2d._—Mr. Miles says he is not going anywhere at all, not even -home. He is to sit here permanently—chairman of a committee to overhaul -camps, commissariats, etc., etc. - -We exchanged our ideas of Mr. Mason, in which we agreed perfectly. In -the first place, he has a noble presence—really a handsome man; is a -manly old Virginian, straightforward, brave, truthful, clever, the very -beau-ideal of an independent, high-spirited F. F. V. If the English value -a genuine man they will have one here. In every particular he is the -exact opposite of Talleyrand. He has some peculiarities. He had never an -ache or a pain himself; his physique is perfect, and he loudly declares -that he hates to see persons ill; seems to him an unpardonable weakness. - -It began to grow late. Many people had come to say good-by to me. I had -fever as usual to-day, but in the excitement of this crowd of friends the -invalid forgot fever. Mr. Chesnut held up his watch to me warningly and -intimated “it was late, indeed, for one who has to travel to-morrow.” So, -as the Yankees say after every defeat, I “retired in good order.” - -Not quite, for I forgot handkerchief and fan. Gonzales rushed after and -met me at the foot of the stairs. In his foreign, pathetic, polite, -high-bred way, he bowed low and said he had made an excuse for the fan, -for he had a present to make me, and then, though “startled and amazed, I -paused and on the stranger gazed.” Alas! I am a woman approaching forty, -and the offering proved to be a bottle of cherry bounce. Nothing could -have been more opportune, and with a little ice, etc., will help, I am -sure, to save my life on that dreadful journey home. - -No discouragement now felt at the North. They take our forts and are -satisfied for a while. Then the English are strictly neutral. Like the -woman who saw her husband fight the bear, “It was the first fight she -ever saw when she did not care who whipped.” - -Mr. Davis was very kind about it all. He told Mr. Chesnut to go home and -have an eye to all the State defenses, etc., and that he would give him -any position he asked for if he still wished to continue in the army. -Now, this would be all that heart could wish, but Mr. Chesnut will never -ask for anything. What will he ask for? That’s the rub. I am certain of -very few things in life now, but this is one I am certain of: Mr. Chesnut -will never ask mortal man for any promotion for himself or for one of his -own family. - - - - -X - -CAMDEN, S. C. - -_September 9, 1861-September 19, 1861_ - - -Camden, S. C., _September 9, 1861_.—Home again at Mulberry, the fever -in full possession of me. My sister, Kate, is my ideal woman, the most -agreeable person I know in the world, with her soft, low, and sweet -voice, her graceful, gracious ways, and her glorious gray eyes, that I -looked into so often as we confided our very souls to each other. - -God bless old Betsey’s yellow face! She is a nurse in a thousand, and -would do anything for “Mars Jeems’ wife.” My small ailments in all -this comfort set me mourning over the dead and dying soldiers I saw in -Virginia. How feeble my compassion proves, after all. - -I handed the old Colonel a letter from his son in the army. He said, as -he folded up the missive from the seat of war, “With this war we may die -out. Your husband is the last—of my family.” He means that my husband is -his only living son; his grandsons are in the army, and they, too, may -be killed—even Johnny, the gallant and gay, may not be bullet-proof. No -child have I. - -Now this old man of ninety years was born when it was not the fashion for -a gentleman to be a saint, and being lord of all he surveyed for so many -years, irresponsible, in the center of his huge domain, it is wonderful -he was not a greater tyrant—the softening influence of that angel wife, -no doubt. Saint or sinner, he understands the world about him—_au fond_. - -Have had a violent attack of something wrong about my heart. It stopped -beating, then it took to trembling, creaking and thumping like a -Mississippi high-pressure steamboat, and the noise in my ears was more -like an ammunition wagon rattling over the stones in Richmond. That was -yesterday, and yet I am alive. That kind of thing makes one feel very -mortal. - -Russell writes how disappointed Prince Jerome Napoleon was with the -appearance of our troops, and “he did not like Beauregard at all.” Well! -I give Bogar up to him. But how a man can find fault with our soldiers, -as I have seen them individually and collectively in Charleston, -Richmond, and everywhere—that beats me. - -The British are the most conceited nation in the world, the most -self-sufficient, self-satisfied, and arrogant. But each individual man -does not blow his own penny whistle; they brag wholesale. Wellington—he -certainly left it for others to sound his praises—though Mr. Binney -thought the statue of Napoleon at the entrance of Apsley House was a -little like “‘Who killed Cock Robin?’ ‘I, said the sparrow, with my bow -and arrow.’” But then it is so pleasant to hear them when it is a lump -sum of praise, with no private crowing—praise of Trafalgar, Waterloo, the -Scots Greys. - -Fighting this and fighting that, with their crack corps stirs the blood -and every heart responds—three times three! Hurrah! - -But our people feel that they must send forth their own reported prowess: -with an, “I did this and I did that.” I know they did it; but I hang my -head. - -[Illustration: MULBERRY HOUSE, NEAR CAMDEN, S. C. - -From a Recent Photograph.] - -In those Tarleton Memoirs, in Lee’s Memoirs, in Moultrie’s, and in Lord -Rawdon’s letters, self is never brought to the front. I have been reading -them over and admire their modesty and good taste as much as their -courage and cleverness. That kind of British eloquence takes me. It is -not, “_Soldats! marchons, gloire!_” Not a bit of it; but, “Now, my lads, -stand firm!” and, “Now up, and let them have it!” - -Our name has not gone out of print. To-day, the Examiner, as usual, -pitches into the President. It thinks Toombs, Cobb, Slidell, Lamar, or -Chesnut would have been far better in the office. There is considerable -choice in that lot. Five men more utterly dissimilar were never named in -the same paragraph. - -_September 19th._—A painful piece of news came to us yesterday—our -cousin, Mrs. Witherspoon, of Society Hill, was found dead in her bed. She -was quite well the night before. Killed, people say, by family sorrows. -She was a proud and high-strung woman. Nothing shabby in word, thought, -or deed ever came nigh her. She was of a warm and tender heart, too; -truth and uprightness itself. Few persons have ever been more loved -and looked up to. She was a very handsome old lady, of fine presence, -dignified and commanding. - -“Killed by family sorrows,” so they said when Mrs. John N. Williams died. -So Uncle John said yesterday of his brother, Burwell. “Death deserts the -army,” said that quaint old soul, “and takes fancy shots of the most -eccentric kind nearer home.” - -The high and disinterested conduct our enemies seem to expect of us is -involuntary and unconscious praise. They pay us the compliment to look -for from us (and execrate us for the want of it) a degree of virtue they -were never able to practise themselves. It is a crowning misdemeanor -for us to hold still in slavery those Africans whom they brought here -from Africa, or sold to us when they found it did not pay to own them -themselves. Gradually, they slid or sold them off down here; or freed -them prospectively, giving themselves years in which to get rid of them -in a remunerative way. We want to spread them over other lands, too—West -and South, or Northwest, where the climate would free them or kill -them, or improve them out of the world, as our friends up North do the -Indians. If they had been forced to keep the negroes in New England, -I dare say the negroes might have shared the Indians’ fate, for they -are wise in their generation, these Yankee children of light. Those -pernicious Africans! So have just spoken Mr. Chesnut and Uncle John, both -_ci-devant_ Union men, now utterly for State rights. - -It is queer how different the same man may appear viewed from different -standpoints. “What a perfect gentleman,” said one person of another; -“so fine-looking, high-bred, distinguished, easy, free, and above all -graceful in his bearing; so high-toned! He is always indignant at any -symptom of wrong-doing. He is charming—the man of all others I like to -have strangers see—a noble representative of our country.” “Yes, every -word of that is true,” was the reply. “He is all that. And then the -other side of the picture is true, too. You can always find him. You -know _where_ to find him! Wherever there is a looking-glass, a bottle, -or a woman, there will he be also.” “My God! and you call yourself his -friend.” “Yes, I know him down to the ground.” - -This conversation I overheard from an upper window when looking down on -the piazza below—a complicated character truly beyond La Bruyère—with -what Mrs. Preston calls refinement spread thin until it is skin-deep only. - -An iron steamer has run the blockade at Savannah. We now raise our wilted -heads like flowers after a shower. This drop of good news revives us.[62] - - - - -XI - -COLUMBIA, S. C. - -_February 20, 1862-July 21, 1862_ - - -Columbia, S. C., _February 20, 1862_.—Had an appetite for my dainty -breakfast. Always breakfast in bed now. But then, my Mercury contained -such bad news. That is an appetizing style of matutinal newspaper. Fort -Donelson[63] has fallen, but no men fell with it. It is prisoners for -them that we can not spare, or prisoners for us that we may not be able -to feed: that is so much to be “forefended,” as Keitt says. They lost -six thousand, we two thousand; I grudge that proportion. In vain, alas! -ye gallant few—few, but undismayed. Again, they make a stand. We have -Buckner, Beauregard, and Albert Sidney Johnston. With such leaders and -God’s help we may be saved from the hated Yankees; who knows? - -_February 21st._—A crowd collected here last night and there was a -serenade. I am like Mrs. Nickleby, who never saw a horse coming full -speed but she thought the Cheerybles had sent post-haste to take Nicholas -into co-partnership. So I got up and dressed, late as it was. I felt sure -England had sought our alliance at last, and we would make a Yorktown -of it before long. Who was it? Will you ever guess?—Artemus Goodwyn and -General Owens, of Florida. - -Just then, Mr. Chesnut rushed in, put out the light, locked the door -and sat still as a mouse. Rap, rap, came at the door. “I say, Chesnut, -they are calling for you.” At last we heard Janney (hotel-keeper) loudly -proclaiming from the piazza that “Colonel Chesnut was not here at all, -at all.” After a while, when they had all gone from the street, and the -very house itself had subsided into perfect quiet, the door again was -roughly shaken. “I say, Chesnut, old fellow, come out—I know you are -there. Nobody here now wants to hear you make a speech. That crowd has -all gone. We want a little quiet talk with you. I am just from Richmond.” -That was the open sesame, and to-day I hear none of the Richmond -news is encouraging. Colonel Shaw is blamed for the shameful Roanoke -surrender.[64] - -Toombs is out on a rampage and swears he will not accept a seat in the -Confederate Senate given in the insulting way his was by the Georgia -Legislature: calls it shabby treatment, and adds that Georgia is not the -only place where good men have been so ill used. - -The Governor and Council have fluttered the dove-cotes, or, at least, the -tea-tables. They talk of making a call for all silver, etc. I doubt if we -have enough to make the sacrifice worth while, but we propose to set the -example. - -_February 22d._—What a beautiful day for our Confederate President to be -inaugurated! God speed him; God keep him; God save him! - -John Chesnut’s letter was quite what we needed. In spirit it is all that -one could ask. He says, “Our late reverses are acting finely with the -army of the Potomac. A few more thrashings and every man will enlist -for the war. Victories made us too sanguine and easy, not to say -vainglorious. Now for the rub, and let them have it!” - -A lady wrote to Mrs. Bunch: “Dear Emma: When shall I call for you to go -and see Madame de St. André?” She was answered: “Dear Lou: I can not go -with you to see Madame de St. André, but will always retain the kindest -feeling toward you on account of our past relations,” etc. The astounded -friend wrote to ask what all this meant. No answer came, and then she -sent her husband to ask and demand an explanation. He was answered thus: -“My dear fellow, there can be no explanation possible. Hereafter there -will be no intercourse between my wife and yours; simply that, nothing -more.” So the men meet at the club as before, and there is no further -trouble between them. The lady upon whom the slur is cast says, “and I am -a woman and can’t fight!” - -_February 23d._—While Mr. Chesnut was in town I was at the Prestons. John -Cochran and some other prisoners had asked to walk over the grounds, -visit the Hampton Gardens, and some friends in Columbia. After the -dreadful state of the public mind at the escape of one of the prisoners, -General Preston was obliged to refuse his request. Mrs. Preston and the -rest of us wanted him to say “Yes,” and so find out who in Columbia were -his treacherous friends. Pretty bold people they must be, to receive -Yankee invaders in the midst of the row over one enemy already turned -loose amid us. - -General Preston said: “We are about to sacrifice life and fortune for a -fickle multitude who will not stand up to us at last.” The harsh comments -made as to his lenient conduct to prisoners have embittered him. I told -him what I had heard Captain Trenholm say in his speech. He said he would -listen to no criticism except from a man with a musket on his shoulder, -and who had beside enlisted for the war, had given up all, and had no -choice but to succeed or die. - -_February 24th._—Congress and the newspapers render one desperate, ready -to cut one’s own throat. They represent everything in our country as -deplorable. Then comes some one back from our gay and gallant army at the -front. The spirit of our army keeps us up after all. Letters from the -army revive one. They come as welcome as the flowers in May. Hopeful and -bright, utterly unconscious of our weak despondency. - -_February 25th._—They have taken at Nashville[65] more men than we had at -Manassas; there was bad handling of troops, we poor women think, or this -would not be. Mr. Venable added bitterly, “Giving up our soldiers to the -enemy means giving up the cause. We can not replace them.” The up-country -men were Union men generally, and the low-country seceders. The former -growl; they never liked those aristocratic boroughs and parishes, they -had themselves a good and prosperous country, a good constitution, and -were satisfied. But they had to go—to leave all and fight for the others -who brought on all the trouble, and who do not show too much disposition -to fight for themselves. - -That is the extreme up-country view. The extreme low-country says Jeff -Davis is not enough out of the Union yet. His inaugural address reads as -one of his speeches did four years ago in the United States Senate. - -A letter in a morning paper accused Mr. Chesnut of staying too long in -Charleston. The editor was asked for the writer’s name. He gave it as -Little Moses, the Governor’s secretary. When Little Moses was spoken to, -in a great trepidation he said that Mrs. Pickens wrote it, and got him to -publish it; so it was dropped, for Little Moses is such an arrant liar no -one can believe him. Besides, if that sort of thing amuses Mrs. Pickens, -let her amuse herself. - -_March 5th._—Mary Preston went back to Mulberry with me from Columbia. -She found a man there tall enough to take her in to dinner—Tom Boykin, -who is six feet four, the same height as her father. Tom was very -handsome in his uniform, and Mary prepared for a nice time, but he looked -as if he would so much rather she did not talk to him, and he set her -such a good example, saying never a word. - -Old Colonel Chesnut came for us. When the train stopped, Quashie, shiny -black, was seen on his box, as glossy and perfect in his way as his -blooded bays, but the old Colonel would stop and pick up the dirtiest -little negro I ever saw who was crying by the roadside. This ragged -little black urchin was made to climb up and sit beside Quash. It spoilt -the symmetry of the turn-out, but it was a character touch, and the old -gentleman knows no law but his own will. He had a biscuit in his pocket -which he gave this sniffling little negro, who proved to be his man -Scip’s son. - -I was ill at Mulberry and never left my room. Doctor Boykin came, more -military than medical. Colonel Chesnut brought him up, also Teams, -who said he was down in the mouth. Our men were not fighting as they -should. We had only pluck and luck, and a dogged spirit of fighting, to -offset their weight in men and munitions of war. I wish I could remember -Teams’s words; this is only his idea. His language was quaint and -striking—no grammar, but no end of sense and good feeling. Old Colonel -Chesnut, catching a word, began his litany, saying, “Numbers will tell,” -“Napoleon, you know,” etc., etc. - -At Mulberry the war has been ever afar off, but threats to take the -silver came very near indeed—silver that we had before the Revolution, -silver that Mrs. Chesnut brought from Philadelphia. Jack Cantey and -Doctor Boykin came back on the train with us. Wade Hampton is the hero. - -Sweet May Dacre. Lord Byron and Disraeli make their rosebuds Catholic; -May Dacre is another Aurora Raby. I like Disraeli because I find so many -clever things in him. I like the sparkle and the glitter. Carlyle does -not hold up his hands in holy horror of us because of African slavery. -Lord Lyons[66] has gone against us. Lord Derby and Louis Napoleon are -silent in our hour of direst need. People call me Cassandra, for I cry -that outside hope is quenched. From the outside no help indeed cometh to -this beleaguered land. - -_March 7th._—Mrs. Middleton was dolorous indeed. General Lee had warned -the planters about Combahee, etc., that they must take care of themselves -now; he could not do it. Confederate soldiers had committed some outrages -on the plantations and officers had punished them promptly. She poured -contempt upon Yancey’s letter to Lord Russell.[67] It was the letter of a -shopkeeper, not in the style of a statesman at all. - -We called to see Mary McDuffie.[68] She asked Mary Preston what Doctor -Boykin had said of her husband as we came along in the train. She heard -it was something very complimentary. Mary P. tried to remember, and to -repeat it all, to the joy of the other Mary, who liked to hear nice -things about her husband. - -Mary was amazed to hear of the list of applicants for promotion. One -delicate-minded person accompanied his demand for advancement by a -request for a written description of the Manassas battle; he had heard -Colonel Chesnut give such a brilliant account of it in Governor Cobb’s -room. - -The Merrimac[69] business has come like a gleam of lightning illumining -a dark scene. Our sky is black and lowering. - -The Judge saw his little daughter at my window and he came up. He -was very smooth and kind. It was really a delightful visit; not a -disagreeable word was spoken. He abused no one whatever, for he never -once spoke of any one but himself, and himself he praised without stint. -He did not look at me once, though he spoke very kindly to me. - -_March 10th._—Second year of Confederate independence. I write daily -for my own diversion. These _mémoires pour servir_ may at some future -day afford facts about these times and prove useful to more important -people than I am. I do not wish to do any harm or to hurt any one. If any -scandalous stories creep in they can easily be burned. It is hard, in -such a hurry as things are now, to separate the wheat from the chaff. Now -that I have made my protest and written down my wishes, I can scribble on -with a free will and free conscience. - -Congress at the North is down on us. They talk largely of hanging -slave-owners. They say they hold Port Royal, as we did when we took it -originally from the aborigines, who fled before us; so we are to be -exterminated and improved, _à l’Indienne_, from the face of the earth. - -Medea, when asked: “Country, wealth, husband, children, all are gone; and -now what remains?” answered: “Medea remains.” “There is a time in most -men’s lives when they resemble Job, sitting among the ashes and drinking -in the full bitterness of complicated misfortune.” - -_March 11th._—A freshman came quite eager to be instructed in all -the wiles of society. He wanted to try his hand at a flirtation, and -requested minute instructions, as he knew nothing whatever: he was so -very fresh. “Dance with her,” he was told, “and talk with her; walk with -her and flatter her; dance until she is warm and tired; then propose to -walk in a cool, shady piazza. It must be a somewhat dark piazza. Begin -your promenade slowly; warm up to your work; draw her arm closer and -closer; then, break her wing.” - -“Heavens, what is that—break her wing?” “Why, you do not know even that? -Put your arm round her waist and kiss her. After that, it is all plain -sailing. She comes down when you call like the coon to Captain Scott: -‘You need not fire, Captain,’ etc.” - -The aspirant for fame as a flirt followed these lucid directions -literally, but when he seized the poor girl and kissed her, she uplifted -her voice in terror, and screamed as if the house was on fire. So quick, -sharp, and shrill were her yells for help that the bold flirt sprang over -the banister, upon which grew a strong climbing rose. This he struggled -through, and ran toward the college, taking a bee line. He was so mangled -by the thorns that he had to go home and have them picked out by his -family. The girl’s brother challenged him. There was no mortal combat, -however, for the gay young fellow who had led the freshman’s ignorance -astray stepped forward and put things straight. An explanation and an -apology at every turn hushed it all up. - -Now, we all laughed at this foolish story most heartily. But Mr. Venable -remained grave and preoccupied, and was asked: “Why are you so unmoved? -It is funny.” “I like more probable fun; I have been in college and I -have kissed many a girl, but never a one scrome yet.” - -Last Saturday was the bloodiest we have had in proportion to -numbers.[70] The enemy lost 1,500. The handful left at home are rushing -to arms at last. Bragg has gone to join Beauregard at Columbus, Miss. Old -Abe truly took the field in that Scotch cap of his. - -Mrs. McCord,[71] the eldest daughter of Langdon Cheves, got up a company -for her son, raising it at her own expense. She has the brains and energy -of a man. To-day she repeated a remark of a low-country gentleman, who -is dissatisfied: “This Government (Confederate) protects neither person -nor property.” Fancy the scornful turn of her lip! Some one asked for -Langdon Cheves, her brother. “Oh, Langdon!” she replied coolly, “he is -a pure patriot; he has no ambition. While I was there, he was letting -Confederate soldiers ditch through his garden and ruin him at their -leisure.” - -Cotton is five cents a pound and labor of no value at all; it commands -no price whatever. People gladly hire out their negroes to have them fed -and clothed, which latter can not be done. Cotton osnaburg at 37½ cents -a yard, leaves no chance to clothe them. Langdon was for martial law -and making the bloodsuckers disgorge their ill-gotten gains. We, poor -fools, who are patriotically ruining ourselves will see our children in -the gutter while treacherous dogs of millionaires go rolling by in their -coaches—coaches that were acquired by taking advantage of our necessities. - -This terrible battle of the ships—Monitor, Merrimac, etc. All hands on -board the Cumberland went down. She fought gallantly and fired a round as -she sank. The Congress ran up a white flag. She fired on our boats as -they went up to take off her wounded. She was burned. The worst of it is -that all this will arouse them to more furious exertions to destroy us. -They hated us so before, but how now? - -In Columbia I do not know a half-dozen men who would not gaily step into -Jeff Davis’s shoes with a firm conviction that they would do better in -every respect than he does. The monstrous conceit, the fatuous ignorance -of these critics! It is pleasant to hear Mrs. McCord on this subject, -when they begin to shake their heads and tell us what Jeff Davis ought to -do. - -_March 12th._—In the naval battle the other day we had twenty-five guns -in all. The enemy had fifty-four in the Cumberland, forty-four in the St. -Lawrence, besides a fleet of gunboats, filled with rifled cannon. Why -not? They can have as many as they please. “No pent-up Utica contracts -their powers”; the whole boundless world being theirs to recruit in. -Ours is only this one little spot of ground—the blockade, or stockade, -which hems us in with only the sky open to us, and for all that, how -tender-footed and cautious they are as they draw near. - -An anonymous letter purports to answer Colonel Chesnut’s address to South -Carolinians now in the army of the Potomac. The man says, “All that bosh -is no good.” He knows lots of people whose fathers were notorious Tories -in our war for independence and made fortunes by selling their country. -Their sons have the best places, and they are cowards and traitors still. -Names are given, of course. - -Floyd and Pillow[72] are suspended from their commands because of Fort -Donelson. The people of Tennessee demand a like fate for Albert Sidney -Johnston. They say he is stupid. Can human folly go further than this -Tennessee madness? - -I did Mrs. Blank a kindness. I told the women when her name came up that -she was childless now, but that she had lost three children. I hated to -leave her all alone. Women have such a contempt for a childless wife. -Now, they will be all sympathy and goodness. I took away her “reproach -among women.” - -_March 13th._—Mr. Chesnut fretting and fuming. From the poor old -blind bishop downward everybody is besetting him to let off students, -theological and other, from going into the army. One comfort is that -the boys will go. Mr. Chesnut answers: “Wait until you have saved your -country before you make preachers and scholars. When you have a country, -there will be no lack of divines, students, scholars to adorn and purify -it.” He says he is a one-idea man. That idea is to get every possible man -into the ranks. - -Professor Le Conte[73] is an able auxiliary. He has undertaken to -supervise and carry on the powder-making enterprise—the very first -attempted in the Confederacy, and Mr. Chesnut is proud of it. It is a -brilliant success, thanks to Le Conte. - -Mr. Chesnut receives anonymous letters urging him to arrest the Judge -as seditious. They say he is a dangerous and disaffected person. His -abuse of Jeff Davis and the Council is rabid. Mr. Chesnut laughs and -throws the letters into the fire. “Disaffected to Jeff Davis,” says he; -“disaffected to the Council, that don’t count. He knows what he is about; -he would not injure his country for the world.” - -Read Uncle Tom’s Cabin again. These negro women have a chance here that -women have nowhere else. They can redeem themselves—the “impropers” -can. They can marry decently, and nothing is remembered against these -colored ladies. It is not a nice topic, but Mrs. Stowe revels in it. How -delightfully Pharisaic a feeling it must be to rise superior and fancy -we are so degraded as to defend and like to live with such degraded -creatures around us—such men as Legree and his women. - -The best way to take negroes to your heart is to get as far away from -them as possible. As far as I can see, Southern women do all that -missionaries could do to prevent and alleviate evils. The social evil -has not been suppressed in old England or in New England, in London or -in Boston. People in those places expect more virtue from a plantation -African than they can insure in practise among themselves with all their -own high moral surroundings—light, education, training, and support. -Lady Mary Montagu says, “Only men and women at last.” “Male and female, -created he them,” says the Bible. There are cruel, graceful, beautiful -mothers of angelic Evas North as well as South, I dare say. The Northern -men and women who came here were always hardest, for they expected an -African to work and behave as a white man. We do not. - -I have often thought from observation truly that perfect beauty hardens -the heart, and as to grace, what so graceful as a cat, a tigress, or -a panther. Much love, admiration, worship hardens an idol’s heart. It -becomes utterly callous and selfish. It expects to receive all and to -give nothing. It even likes the excitement of seeing people suffer. I -speak now of what I have watched with horror and amazement. - -Topsys I have known, but none that were beaten or ill-used. Evas are -mostly in the heaven of Mrs. Stowe’s imagination. People can’t love -things dirty, ugly, and repulsive, simply because they ought to do so, -but they can be good to them at a distance; that’s easy. You see, I can -not rise very high; I can only judge by what I see. - -_March 14th._—Thank God for a ship! It has run the blockade with arms and -ammunition. - -There are no negro sexual relations half so shocking as Mormonism. And -yet the United States Government makes no bones of receiving Mormons -into its sacred heart. Mr. Venable said England held her hand over -“the malignant and the turbaned Turk” to save and protect him, slaves, -seraglio, and all. But she rolls up the whites of her eyes at us when -slavery, bad as it is, is stepping out into freedom every moment through -Christian civilization. They do not grudge the Turk even his bag and -Bosphorus privileges. To a recalcitrant wife it is, “Here yawns the -sack; there rolls the sea,” etc. And France, the bold, the brave, the -ever free, she has not been so tender-footed in Algiers. But then the -“you are another” argument is a shabby one. “You see,” says Mary Preston -sagaciously, “we are white Christian descendants of Huguenots and -Cavaliers, and they expect of us different conduct.” - -Went in Mrs. Preston’s landau to bring my boarding-school girls here -to dine. At my door met J. F., who wanted me then and there to promise -to help him with his commission or put him in the way of one. At the -carriage steps I was handed in by Gus Smith, who wants his brother made -commissary. The beauty of it all is they think I have some influence, and -I have not a particle. The subject of Mr. Chesnut’s military affairs, -promotions, etc., is never mentioned by me. - -_March 15th._—When we came home from Richmond, there stood Warren -Nelson, propped up against my door, lazily waiting for me, the handsome -creature. He said he meant to be heard, so I walked back with him to the -drawing-room. They are wasting their time dancing attendance on me. I -can not help them. Let them shoulder their musket and go to the wars like -men. - -After tea came “Mars Kit”—he said for a talk, but that Mr. Preston would -not let him have, for Mr. Preston had arrived some time before him. Mr. -Preston said “Mars Kit” thought it “bad form” to laugh. After that you -may be sure a laugh from “Mars Kit” was secured. Again and again, he was -forced to laugh with a will. I reversed Oliver Wendell Holmes’s good -resolution—never to be as funny as he could. I did my very utmost. - -Mr. Venable interrupted the fun, which was fast and furious, with -the very best of bad news! Newbern shelled and burned, cotton, -turpentine—everything. There were 5,000 North Carolinians in the fray, -12,000 Yankees. Now there stands Goldsboro. One more step and we are -cut in two. The railroad is our backbone, like the Blue Ridge and the -Alleghanies, with which it runs parallel. So many discomforts, no wonder -we are down-hearted. - -Mr. Venable thinks as we do—Garnett is our most thorough scholar; Lamar -the most original, and the cleverest of our men—L. Q. C. Lamar—time -fails me to write all his name. Then, there is R. M. T. Hunter. Muscoe -Russell Garnett and his Northern wife: that match was made at my house in -Washington when Garnett was a member of the United States Congress. - -_March 17th._—Back to the Congaree House to await my husband, who has -made a rapid visit to the Wateree region. As we drove up Mr. Chesnut -said: “Did you see the stare of respectful admiration E. R. bestowed upon -you, so curiously prolonged? I could hardly keep my countenance.” “Yes, -my dear child, I feel the honor of it, though my individual self goes -for nothing in it. I am the wife of the man who has the appointing power -just now, with so many commissions to be filled. I am nearly forty, and -they do my understanding the credit to suppose I can be made to believe -they admire my mature charms. They think they fool me into thinking that -they believe me charming. There is hardly any farce in the world more -laughable.” - -Last night a house was set on fire; last week two houses. “The red cock -crows in the barn!” Our troubles thicken, indeed, when treachery comes -from that dark quarter. - -When the President first offered Johnston Pettigrew a -brigadier-generalship, his answer was: “Not yet. Too many men are ahead -of me who have earned their promotion in the field. I will come after -them, not before. So far I have done nothing to merit reward,” etc. -He would not take rank when he could get it. I fancy he may cool his -heels now waiting for it. He was too high and mighty. There was another -conscientious man—Burnet, of Kentucky. He gave up his regiment to his -lieutenant-colonel when he found the lieutenant-colonel could command the -regiment and Burnet could not maneuver it in the field. He went into the -fight simply as an aide to Floyd. Modest merit just now is at a premium. - -William Gilmore Simms is here; read us his last poetry; have forgotten -already what it was about. It was not tiresome, however, and that is a -great thing when people will persist in reading their own rhymes. - -I did not hear what Mr. Preston was saying. “The last piece of Richmond -news,” Mr. Chesnut said as he went away, and he looked so fagged out I -asked no questions. I knew it was bad. - -At daylight there was a loud knocking at my door. I hurried on a -dressing-gown and flew to open the door. “Mrs. Chesnut, Mrs. M. says -please don’t forget her son. Mr. Chesnut, she hears, has come back. -Please get her son a commission. He must have an office.” I shut the -door in the servant’s face. If I had the influence these foolish people -attribute to me why should I not help my own? I have a brother, two -brothers-in-law, and no end of kin, all gentlemen privates, and privates -they would stay to the end of time before they said a word to me about -commissions. After a long talk we were finally disgusted and the men went -off to the bulletin-board. Whatever else it shows, good or bad, there -is always woe for some house in the killed and wounded. We have need of -stout hearts. I feel a sinking of mine as we drive near the board. - -_March 18th._—My war archon is beset for commissions, and somebody says -for every one given, you make one ingrate and a thousand enemies. - -As I entered Miss Mary Stark’s I whispered: “He has promised to vote -for Louis.” What radiant faces. To my friend, Miss Mary said, “Your -son-in-law, what is he doing for his country?” “He is a tax collector.” -Then spoke up the stout old girl: “Look at my cheek; it is red with -blushing for you. A great, hale, hearty young man! Fie on him! fie -on him! for shame! Tell his wife; run him out of the house with a -broomstick; send him down to the coast at least.” Fancy my cheeks. I -could not raise my eyes to the poor lady, so mercilessly assaulted. My -face was as hot with compassion as the outspoken Miss Mary pretended hers -to be with vicarious mortification. - -Went to see sweet and saintly Mrs. Bartow. She read us a letter from -Mississippi—not so bad: “More men there than the enemy suspected, and -torpedoes to blow up the wretches when they came.” Next to see Mrs. -Izard. She had with her a relative just from the North. This lady had -asked Seward for passports, and he told her to “hold on a while; the road -to South Carolina will soon be open to all, open and safe.” To-day Mrs. -Arthur Hayne heard from her daughter that Richmond is to be given up. -Mrs. Buell is her daughter. - -Met Mr. Chesnut, who said: “New Madrid[74] has been given up. I do not -know any more than the dead where New Madrid is. It is bad, all the same, -this giving up. I can’t stand it. The hemming-in process is nearly -complete. The ring of fire is almost unbroken.” - -Mr. Chesnut’s negroes offered to fight for him if he would arm them. -He pretended to believe them. He says one man can not do it. The whole -country must agree to it. He would trust such as he would select, and -he would give so many acres of land and his freedom to each one as he -enlisted. - -Mrs. Albert Rhett came for an office for her son John. I told her Mr. -Chesnut would never propose a kinsman for office, but if any one else -would bring him forward he would vote for him certainly, as he is so -eminently fit for position. Now he is a private. - -_March 19th._—He who runs may read. Conscription means that we are in a -tight place. This war was a volunteer business. To-morrow conscription -begins—the _dernier ressort_. The President has remodeled his Cabinet, -leaving Bragg for North Carolina. His War Minister is Randolph, -of Virginia. A Union man _par excellence_, Watts, of Alabama, is -Attorney-General. And now, too late by one year, when all the mechanics -are in the army, Mallory begins to telegraph Captain Ingraham to build -ships at any expense. We are locked in and can not get “the requisites -for naval architecture,” says a magniloquent person. - -Henry Frost says all hands wink at cotton going out. Why not send it -out and buy ships? “Every now and then there is a holocaust of cotton -burning,” says the magniloquent. Conscription has waked the Rip Van -Winkles. The streets of Columbia were never so crowded with men. To fight -and to be made to fight are different things. - -To my small wits, whenever people were persistent, united, and rose in -their might, no general, however great, succeeded in subjugating them. -Have we not swamps, forests, rivers, mountains—every natural barrier? -The Carthaginians begged for peace because they were a luxurious people -and could not endure the hardship of war, though the enemy suffered as -sharply as they did! “Factions among themselves” is the rock on which we -split. Now for the great soul who is to rise up and lead us. Why tarry -his footsteps? - -_March 20th._—The Merrimac is now called the Virginia. I think these -changes of names so confusing and so senseless. Like the French “Royal -Bengal Tiger,” “National Tiger,” etc. _Rue_ this, and next day _Rue_ -that, the very days and months a symbol, and nothing signified. - -I was lying on the sofa in my room, and two men slowly walking up -and down the corridor talked aloud as if necessarily all rooms were -unoccupied at this midday hour. I asked Maum Mary who they were. “Yeadon -and Barnwell Rhett, Jr.” They abused the Council roundly, and my -husband’s name arrested my attention. Afterward, when Yeadon attacked -Mr. Chesnut, Mr. Chesnut surprised him by knowing beforehand all he had -to say. Naturally I had repeated the loud interchange of views I had -overheard in the corridor. - -First, Nathan Davis called. Then Gonzales, who presented a fine, -soldierly appearance in his soldier clothes, and the likeness to -Beauregard was greater than ever. Nathan, all the world knows, is by -profession a handsome man. - -[Illustration: A GROUP OF CONFEDERATE WOMEN. - -MISS S. B. C. PRESTON. - -MISS ISABELLA D. MARTIN. - -MRS. JEFFERSON DAVIS. - -MRS. LOUISA S. McCORD. - -MRS. FRANCIS W. PICKENS. - -MRS. DAVID R. WILLIAMS. (The author’s sister, Kate.)] - -General Gonzales told us what in the bitterness of his soul he had -written to Jeff Davis. He regretted that he had not been his classmate; -then he might have been as well treated as Northrop. In any case he -would not have been refused a brigadiership, citing General Trapier and -Tom Drayton. He had worked for it, had earned it; they had not. To his -surprise, Mr. Davis answered him, and in a sharp note of four pages. Mr. -Davis demanded from whom he quoted, “not his classmate.” General Gonzales -responded, “from the public voice only.” Now he will fight for us all -the same, but go on demanding justice from Jeff Davis until he get his -dues—at least, until one of them gets his dues, for he means to go on -hitting Jeff Davis over the head whenever he has a chance. - -“I am afraid,” said I, “you will find it a hard head to crack.” He -replied in his flowery Spanish way: “Jeff Davis will be the sun, -radiating all light, heat, and patronage; he will not be a moon -reflecting public opinion, for he has the soul of a despot; he delights -to spite public opinion. See, people abused him for making Crittenden -brigadier. Straightway he made him major-general, and just after a -blundering, besotted defeat, too.” Also, he told the President in that -letter: “Napoleon made his generals after great deeds on their part, and -not for having been educated at St. Cyr, or Brie, or the Polytechnique,” -etc., etc. Nathan Davis sat as still as a Sioux warrior, not an eyelash -moved. And yet he said afterward that he was amused while the Spaniard -railed at his great namesake. - -Gonzales said: “Mrs. Slidell would proudly say that she was a Creole. -They were such fools, they thought Creole meant—” Here Nathan interrupted -pleasantly: “At the St. Charles, in New Orleans, on the bill of fare were -‘Creole eggs.’ When they were brought to a man who had ordered them, with -perfect simplicity, he held them up, ‘Why, they are only hens’ eggs, -after all.’ What in Heaven’s name he expected them to be, who can say?” -smiled Nathan the elegant. - -One lady says (as I sit reading in the drawing-room window while Maum -Mary puts my room to rights): “I clothe my negroes well. I could not bear -to see them in dirt and rags; it would be unpleasant to me.” Another -lady: “Yes. Well, so do I. But not fine clothes, you know. I feel—now—it -was one of our sins as a nation, the way we indulged them in sinful -finery. We will be punished for it.” - -Last night, Mrs. Pickens met General Cooper. Madam knew General Cooper -only as our adjutant-general, and Mr. Mason’s brother-in-law. In her -slow, graceful, impressive way, her beautiful eyes eloquent with -feeling, she inveighed against Mr. Davis’s wickedness in always sending -men born at the North to command at Charleston. General Cooper is on his -way to make a tour of inspection there now. The dear general settled his -head on his cravat with the aid of his forefinger; he tugged rather more -nervously with the something that is always wrong inside of his collar, -and looked straight up through his spectacles. Some one crossed the room, -stood back of Mrs. Pickens, and murmured in her ear, “General Cooper was -born in New York.” Sudden silence. - -Dined with General Cooper at the Prestons. General Hampton and Blanton -Duncan were there also; the latter a thoroughly free-and-easy Western -man, handsome and clever; more audacious than either, perhaps. He pointed -to Buck—Sally Buchanan Campbell Preston. “What’s that girl laughing -at?” Poor child, how amazed she looked. He bade them “not despair; all -the nice young men would not be killed in the war; there would be a few -left. For himself, he could give them no hope; Mrs. Duncan was uncommonly -healthy.” Mrs. Duncan is also lovely. We have seen her. - -_March 24th._—I was asked to the Tognos’ tea, so refused a drive with -Mary Preston. As I sat at my solitary casemate, waiting for the time to -come for the Tognos, saw Mrs. Preston’s landau pass, and Mr. Venable -making Mary laugh at some of his army stories, as only Mr. Venable can. -Already I felt that I had paid too much for my whistle—that is, the -Togno tea. The Gibbeses, Trenholms, Edmund Rhett, there. Edmund Rhett -has very fine eyes and makes fearful play with them. He sits silent and -motionless, with his hands on his knees, his head bent forward, and his -eyes fixed upon you. I could think of nothing like it but a setter and a -covey of partridges. - -As to President Davis, he sank to profounder deeps of abuse of him than -even Gonzales. I quoted Yancey: “A crew may not like their captain, but -if they are mad enough to mutiny while a storm is raging, all hands are -bound to go to the bottom.” After that I contented myself with a mild -shake of the head when I disagreed with him, and at last I began to shake -so persistently it amounted to incipient palsy. “Jeff Davis,” he said, -“is conceited, wrong-headed, wranglesome, obstinate—a traitor.” “Now I -have borne much in silence,” said I at last, “but that is pernicious -nonsense. Do not let us waste any more time listening to your quotations -from the Mercury.” - -He very good-naturedly changed the subject, which was easy just then, -for a delicious supper was on the table ready for us. But Doctor Gibbes -began anew the fighting. He helped me to some _pâté_—“Not _foie gras_,” -said Madame Togno, “_pâté perdreaux_.” Doctor Gibbes, however, gave it -a flavor of his own. “Eat it,” said he, “it is good for you; rich and -wholesome; healthy as cod-liver oil.” - -A queer thing happened. At the post-office a man saw a small boy open -with a key the box of the Governor and the Council, take the contents of -the box and run for his life. Of course, this man called to the urchin to -stop. The urchin did not heed, but seeing himself pursued, began tearing -up the letters and papers. He was caught and the fragments were picked -up. Finding himself a prisoner, he pointed out the negro who gave him the -key. The negro was arrested. - -Governor Pickens called to see me to-day. We began with Fort Sumter. For -an hour did we hammer at that fortress. We took it, gun by gun. He was -very pleasant and friendly in his manner. - -James Chesnut has been so nice this winter; so reasonable and -considerate—that is, for a man. The night I came from Madame Togno’s, -instead of making a row about the lateness of the hour, he said he was -“so wide awake and so hungry.” I put on my dressing-gown and scrambled -some eggs, etc., there on our own fire. And with our feet on the fender -and the small supper-table between us, we enjoyed the supper and glorious -gossip. Rather a pleasant state of things when one’s own husband is in -good humor and cleverer than all the men outside. - -This afternoon, the _entente cordiale_ still subsisting, Maum Mary -beckoned me out mysteriously, but Mr. Chesnut said: “Speak out, old -woman; nobody here but myself.” “Mars Nathum Davis wants to speak to -her,” said she. So I hurried off to the drawing-room, Maum Mary flapping -her down-at-the-heels shoes in my wake. “He’s gwine bekase somebody -done stole his boots. How could he stay bedout boots?” So Nathan said -good-by. Then we met General Gist, Maum Mary still hovering near, and -I congratulated him on being promoted. He is now a brigadier. This he -received with modest complaisance. “I knowed he was a general,” said Maum -Mary as he passed on, “he told me as soon as he got in his room befo’ his -boy put down his trunks.” - -As Nathan, the unlucky, said good-by, he informed me that a Mr. Reed from -Montgomery was in the drawing-room and wanted to see me. Mr. Reed had -traveled with our foreign envoy, Yancey. I was keen for news from abroad. -Mr. Reed settled that summarily. “Mr. Yancey says we need not have one -jot of hope. He could bowstring Mallory for not buying arms in time. The -very best citizens wanted to depose the State government and take things -into their own hands, the powers that be being inefficient. Western men -are hurrying to the front, bestirring themselves. In two more months we -shall be ready.” What could I do but laugh? I do hope the enemy will be -considerate and charitable enough to wait for us. - -Mr. Reed’s calm faith in the power of Mr. Yancey’s eloquence was -beautiful to see. He asked for Mr. Chesnut. I went back to our rooms, -swelling with news like a pouter pigeon. Mr. Chesnut said: “Well! four -hours—a call from Nathan Davis of four hours!” Men are too absurd! So I -bear the honors of my forty years gallantly. I can but laugh. “Mr. Nathan -Davis went by the five-o’clock train,” I said; “it is now about six or -seven, maybe eight. I have had so many visitors. Mr. Reed, of Alabama, is -asking for you out there.” He went without a word, but I doubt if he went -to see Mr. Reed, my laughing had made him so angry. - -At last Lincoln threatens us with a proclamation abolishing -slavery[75]—here in the free Southern Confederacy; and they say McClellan -is deposed. They want more fighting—I mean the government, whose skins -are safe, they want more fighting, and trust to luck for the skill of the -new generals. - -_March 28th._—I did leave with regret Maum Mary. She was such a good, -well-informed old thing. My Molly, though perfection otherwise, does -not receive the confidential communications of new-made generals at the -earliest moment. She is of very limited military information. Maum Mary -was the comfort of my life. She saved me from all trouble as far as she -could. Seventy, if she is a day, she is spry and active as a cat, of a -curiosity that knows no bounds, black and clean; also, she knows a joke -at first sight, and she is honest. I fancy the negroes are ashamed to rob -people as careless as James Chesnut and myself. - -One night, just before we left the Congaree House, Mr. Chesnut had -forgotten to tell some all-important thing to Governor Gist, who was -to leave on a public mission next day. So at the dawn of day he put on -his dressing-gown and went to the Governor’s room. He found the door -unlocked and the Governor fast asleep. He shook him. Half-asleep, the -Governor sprang up and threw his arms around Mr. Chesnut’s neck and -said: “Honey, is it you?” The mistake was rapidly set right, and the -bewildered plenipotentiary was given his instructions. Mr. Chesnut came -into my room, threw himself on the sofa, and nearly laughed himself to -extinction, imitating again and again the pathetic tone of the Governor’s -greeting. - -Mr. Chesnut calls Lawrence “Adolphe,” but says he is simply perfect as a -servant. Mary Stevens said: “I thought Cousin James the laziest man alive -until I knew his man, Lawrence.” Lawrence will not move an inch or lift -a finger for any one but his master. Mrs. Middleton politely sent him -on an errand; Lawrence, too, was very polite; hours after, she saw him -sitting on the fence of the front yard. “Didn’t you go?” she asked. “No, -ma’am. I am waiting for Mars Jeems.” Mrs. Middleton calls him now, “Mr. -Take-it-Easy.” - -My very last day’s experience at the Congaree. I was waiting for Mars -Jeems in the drawing-room when a lady there declared herself to be the -wife of an officer in Clingman’s regiment. A gentleman who seemed quite -friendly with her, told her all Mr. Chesnut said, thought, intended to -do, wrote, and _felt_. I asked: “Are you certain of all these things -you say of Colonel Chesnut?” The man hardly deigned to notice this -impertinent interruption from a stranger presuming to speak but who had -not been introduced! After he went out, the wife of Clingman’s officer -was seized with an intuitive curiosity. “Madam, will you tell me your -name?” I gave it, adding, “I dare say I showed myself an intelligent -listener when my husband’s affairs were under discussion.” At first, I -refused to give my name because it would have embarrassed her friend if -she had told him who I was. The man was Mr. Chesnut’s secretary, but I -had never seen him before. - -A letter from Kate says she had been up all night preparing David’s -things. Little Serena sat up and helped her mother. They did not know -that they would ever see him again. Upon reading it, I wept and James -Chesnut cursed the Yankees. - -Gave the girls a quantity of flannel for soldiers’ shirts; also a string -of pearls to be raffled for at the Gunboat Fair. Mary Witherspoon has -sent a silver tea-pot. We do not spare our precious things now. Our -silver and gold, what are they?—when we give up to war our beloved. - -_April 2d._—Dr. Trezevant, attending Mr. Chesnut, who was ill, came and -found his patient gone; he could not stand the news of that last battle. -He got up and dressed, weak as he was, and went forth to hear what he -could for himself. The doctor was angry with me for permitting this, and -more angry with him for such folly. I made him listen to the distinction -between feminine folly and virulent vagaries and nonsense. He said: “He -will certainly be salivated after all that calomel out in this damp -weather.” - -To-day, the ladies in their landaus were bitterly attacked by the morning -paper for lolling back in their silks and satins, with tall footmen in -livery, driving up and down the streets while the poor soldiers’ wives -were on the sidewalks. It is the old story of rich and poor! My little -barouche is not here, nor has James Chesnut any of his horses here, but -then I drive every day with Mrs. McCord and Mrs. Preston, either of whose -turnouts fills the bill. The Governor’s carriage, horses, servants, etc., -are splendid—just what they should be. Why not? - -_April 14th._—Our Fair is in full blast. We keep a restaurant. Our -waitresses are Mary and Buck Preston, Isabella Martin, and Grace Elmore. - -_April 15th._—Trescott is too clever ever to be a bore; that was proved -to-day, for he stayed two hours; as usual, Mr. Chesnut said “four.” -Trescott was very surly; calls himself ex-Secretary of State of the -United States; now, nothing in particular of South Carolina or the -Confederate States. Then he yawned, “What a bore this war is. I wish it -was ended, one way or another.” He speaks of going across the border and -taking service in Mexico. “Rubbish, not much Mexico for you,” I answered. -Another patriot came then and averred, “I will take my family back to -town, that we may all surrender together. I gave it up early in the -spring.” Trescott made a face behind backs, and said: “_Lache!_” - -The enemy have flanked Beauregard at Nashville. There is grief enough for -Albert Sidney Johnston now; we begin to see what we have lost. We were -pushing them into the river when General Johnston was wounded. Beauregard -was lying in his tent, at the rear, in a green sickness—melancholy—but no -matter what the name of the malady. He was too slow to move, and lost all -the advantage gained by our dead hero.[76] Without him there is no head -to our Western army. Pulaski has fallen. What more is there to fall? - -_April 15th._—Mrs. Middleton: “How did you settle Molly’s little -difficulty with Mrs. McMahan, that ‘piece of her mind’ that Molly gave -our landlady?” “Oh, paid our way out of it, of course, and I apologized -for Molly!” - -Gladden, the hero of the Palmettos in Mexico, is killed. Shiloh has been -a dreadful blow to us. Last winter Stephen, my brother, had it in his -power to do such a nice thing for Colonel Gladden. In the dark he heard -his name, also that he had to walk twenty-five miles in Alabama mud or go -on an ammunition wagon. So he introduced himself as a South Carolinian -to Colonel Gladden, whom he knew only by reputation as colonel of the -Palmetto regiment in the Mexican war. And they drove him in his carriage -comfortably to where he wanted to go—a night drive of fifty miles for -Stephen, for he had the return trip, too. I would rather live in Siberia, -worse still, in Sahara, than live in a country surrendered to Yankees. - -The Carolinian says the conscription bill passed by Congress is fatal to -our liberties as a people. Let us be a people “certain and sure,” as poor -Tom B. said, and then talk of rebelling against our home government. - -Sat up all night. Read Eothen straight through, our old Wiley and Putnam -edition that we bought in London in 1845. How could I sleep? The power -they are bringing to bear against our country is tremendous. Its weight -may be irresistible—I dare not think of that, however. - -_April 21st._—Have been ill. One day I dined at Mrs. Preston’s, _pâté -de foie gras_ and partridge prepared for me as I like them. I had been -awfully depressed for days and could not sleep at night for anxiety, but -I did not know that I was bodily ill. Mrs. Preston came home with me. -She said emphatically: “Molly, if your mistress is worse in the night -send for me instantly.” I thought it very odd. I could not breathe if I -attempted to lie down, and very soon I lost my voice. Molly raced out and -sent Lawrence for Doctor Trezevant. She said I had the croup. The doctor -said, “congestion of the lungs.” - -So here I am, stranded, laid by the heels. Battle after battle has -occurred, disaster after disaster. Every morning’s paper is enough to -kill a well woman and age a strong and hearty one. - -To-day, the waters of this stagnant pool were wildly stirred. The -President telegraphed for my husband to come on to Richmond, and offered -him a place on his staff. I was a joyful woman. It was a way opened by -Providence from this Slough of Despond, this Council whose counsel no -one takes. I wrote to Mr. Davis, “With thanks, and begging your pardon, -how I would like to go.” Mrs. Preston agrees with me, Mr. Chesnut ought -to go. Through Mr. Chesnut the President might hear many things to the -advantage of our State, etc. - -Letter from Quinton Washington. That was the best tonic yet. He writes -so cheerfully. We have fifty thousand men on the Peninsula and McClellan -eighty thousand. We expect that much disparity of numbers. We can stand -that. - -_April 23d._—On April 23, 1840, I was married, aged seventeen; -consequently on the 31st of March, 1862, I was thirty-nine. I saw a -wedding to-day from my window, which opens on Trinity Church. Nanna Shand -married a Doctor Wilson. Then, a beautiful bevy of girls rushed into my -room. Such a flutter and a chatter. Well, thank Heaven for a wedding. It -is a charming relief from the dismal litany of our daily song. - -A letter to-day from our octogenarian at Mulberry. His nephew, Jack Deas, -had two horses shot under him; the old Colonel has his growl, “That’s -enough for glory, and no hurt after all.” He ends, however, with his -never-failing refrain: We can’t fight all the world; two and two only -make four; it can’t make a thousand; numbers will not lie. He says he -has lost half a million already in railroad bonds, bank stock, Western -notes of hand, not to speak of negroes to be freed, and lands to be -confiscated, for he takes the gloomiest views of all things. - -_April 26th._—Doleful dumps, alarm-bells ringing. Telegrams say the -mortar fleet has passed the forts at New Orleans. Down into the very -depths of despair are we. - -_April 27th._—New Orleans gone[77] and with it the Confederacy. That -Mississippi ruins us if lost. The Confederacy has been done to death by -the politicians. What wonder we are lost. - -The soldiers have done their duty. All honor to the army. Statesmen as -busy as bees about their own places, or their personal honor, too busy -to see the enemy at a distance. With a microscope they were examining -their own interests, or their own wrongs, forgetting the interests of the -people they represented. They were concocting newspaper paragraphs to -injure the government. No matter how vital it may be, nothing can be kept -from the enemy. They must publish themselves, night and day, what they -are doing, or the omniscient Buncombe will forget them. - -This fall of New Orleans means utter ruin to the private fortunes of the -Prestons. Mr. Preston came from New Orleans so satisfied with Mansfield -Lovell and the tremendous steam-rams he saw there. While in New Orleans -Burnside offered Mr. Preston five hundred thousand dollars, a debt due to -him from Burnside, and he refused to take it. He said the money was safer -in Burnside’s hands than his. And so it may prove, so ugly is the outlook -now. Burnside is wide awake; he is not a man to be caught napping. - -Mary Preston was saying she had asked the Hamptons how they relished -the idea of being paupers. If the country is saved none of us will care -for that sort of thing. Philosophical and patriotic, Mr. Chesnut came -in, saying: “Conrad has been telegraphed from New Orleans that the -great iron-clad Louisiana went down at the first shot.” Mr. Chesnut and -Mary Preston walked off, first to the bulletin-board and then to the -Prestons’. - -_April 29th._—A grand smash, the news from New Orleans fatal to us. Met -Mr. Weston. He wanted to know where he could find a place of safety for -two hundred negroes. I looked into his face to see if he were in earnest; -then to see if he were sane. There was a certain set of two hundred -negroes that had grown to be a nuisance. Apparently all the white men of -the family had felt bound to stay at home to take care of them. There -are people who still believe negroes property—like Noah’s neighbors, who -insisted that the Deluge would only be a little shower after all. - -These negroes, however, were Plowden Weston’s, a totally different part -of speech. He gave field-rifles to one company and forty thousand dollars -to another. He is away with our army at Corinth. So I said: “You may rely -upon Mr. Chesnut, who will assist you to his uttermost in finding a home -for these people. Nothing belonging to that patriotic gentleman shall -come to grief if we have to take charge of them on our own place.” Mr. -Chesnut did get a place for them, as I said he would. - -Had to go to the Governor’s or they would think we had hoisted the -black flag. Heard there we are going to be beaten as Cortez beat the -Mexicans—by superior arms. Mexican bows and arrows made a poor showing in -the face of Spanish accoutrements. Our enemies have such superior weapons -of war, we hardly any but what we capture from them in the fray. The -Saxons and the Normans were in the same plight. - -War seems a game of chess, but we have an unequal number of pawns to -begin with. We have knights, kings, queens, bishops, and castles enough. -But our skilful generals, whenever they can not arrange the board to suit -them exactly, burn up everything and march away. We want them to save the -country. They seem to think their whole duty is to destroy ships and save -the army. - -Mr. Robert Barnwell wrote that he had to hang his head for South -Carolina. We had not furnished our quota of the new levy, five thousand -men. To-day Colonel Chesnut published his statement to show that we have -sent thirteen thousand, instead of the mere number required of us; so Mr. -Barnwell can hold up his head again. - -_April 30th._—The last day of this month of calamities. Lovell left the -women and children to be shelled, and took the army to a safe place. I -do not understand why we do not send the women and children to the safe -place and let the army stay where the fighting is to be. Armies are to -save, not to be saved. At least, to be saved is not their _raison d’être_ -exactly. If this goes on the spirit of our people will be broken. One ray -of comfort comes from Henry Marshall. “Our Army of the Peninsula is fine; -so good I do not think McClellan will venture to attack it.” So mote it -be. - -_May 6th._—Mine is a painful, self-imposed task: but why write when I -have nothing to chronicle but disaster?[78] So I read instead: First, -Consuelo, then Columba, two ends of the pole certainly, and then a -translated edition of Elective Affinities. Food enough for thought in -every one of this odd assortment of books. - -At the Prestons’, where I am staying (because Mr. Chesnut has gone to see -his crabbed old father, whom he loves, and who is reported ill), I met -Christopher Hampton. He tells us Wigfall is out on a war-path; wants them -to strike for Maryland. The President’s opinion of the move is not given. -Also Mr. Hampton met the first lieutenant of the Kirkwoods, E. M. Boykin. -Says he is just the same man he was in the South Carolina College. In -whatever company you may meet him, he is the pleasantest man there. - -A telegram reads: “We have repulsed the enemy at Williamsburg.”[79] Oh, -if we could drive them back “to their ain countree!” Richmond was hard -pressed this day. The Mercury of to-day says, “Jeff Davis now treats all -men as if they were idiotic insects.” - -Mary Preston said all sisters quarreled. No, we never quarrel, I and -mine. We keep all our bitter words for our enemies. We are frank -heathens; we hate our enemies and love our friends. Some people (our -kind) can never make up after a quarrel; hard words once only and -all is over. To us forgiveness is impossible. Forgiveness means calm -indifference; philosophy, while love lasts. Forgiveness of love’s -wrongs is impossible. Those dutiful wives who piously overlook—well, -everything—do not care one fig for their husbands. I settled that in my -own mind years ago. Some people think it magnanimous to praise their -enemies and to show their impartiality and justice by acknowledging the -faults of their friends. I am for the simple rule, the good old plan. I -praise whom I love and abuse whom I hate. - -Mary Preston has been translating Schiller aloud. We are provided with -Bulwer’s translation, Mrs. Austin’s, Coleridge’s, and Carlyle’s, and we -show how each renders the passage Mary is to convert into English. In -Wallenstein at one point of the Max and Thekla scene, I like Carlyle -better than Coleridge, though they say Coleridge’s Wallenstein is the -only translation in the world half so good as the original. Mrs. Barstow -repeated some beautiful scraps by Uhland, which I had never heard before. -She is to write them for us. Peace, and a literary leisure for my old -age, unbroken by care and anxiety! - -General Preston accused me of degenerating into a boarding-house gossip, -and is answered triumphantly by his daughters: “But, papa, one you love -to gossip with full well.” - -Hampton estate has fifteen hundred negroes on Lake Washington, -Mississippi. Hampton girls talking in the language of James’s novels: -“Neither Wade nor Preston—that splendid boy!—would lay a lance in -rest—or couch it, which is the right phrase for fighting, to preserve -slavery. They hate it as we do.” “What are they fighting for?” “Southern -rights—whatever that is. And they do not want to be understrappers -forever to the Yankees. They talk well enough about it, but I forget what -they say.” Johnny Chesnut says: “No use to give a reason—a fellow could -not stay away from the fight—not well.” It takes four negroes to wait on -Johnny satisfactorily. - - * * * * * - -It is this giving up that kills me. Norfolk they talk of now; why not -Charleston next? I read in a Western letter, “Not Beauregard, but the -soldiers who stopped to drink the whisky they had captured from the -enemy, lost us Shiloh.” Cock Robin is as dead as he ever will be now; -what matters it who killed him? - -_May 12th._—Mr. Chesnut says he is very glad he went to town. Everything -in Charleston is so much more satisfactory than it is reported. Troops -are in good spirits. It will take a lot of ironclads to take that city. - -Isaac Hayne said at dinner yesterday that both Beauregard and the -President had a great opinion of Mr. Chesnut’s natural ability for -strategy and military evolution. Hon. Mr. Barnwell concurred; that is, -Mr. Barnwell had been told so by the President. “Then why did not the -President offer me something better than an aideship?” “I heard he -offered to make you a general last year, and you said you could not go -over other men’s shoulders until you had earned promotion. You are too -hard to please.” “No, not exactly that, I was only offered a colonelcy, -and Mr. Barnwell persuaded me to stick to the Senate; then he wanted my -place, and between the two stools I fell to the ground.” - -My Molly will forget Lige and her babies, too. I asked her who sent me -that beautiful bouquet I found on my center-table. “I give it to you. -’Twas give to me.” And Molly was all wriggle, giggle, blush. - -_May 18th._—Norfolk has been burned and the Merrimac sunk without -striking a blow since her _coup d’état_ in Hampton Roads. Read Milton. -See the speech of Adam to Eve in a new light. Women will not stay at -home; will go out to see and be seen, even if it be by the devil himself. - -Very encouraging letters from Hon. Mr. Memminger and from L. Q. -Washington. They tell the same story in very different words. It amounts -to this: “Not one foot of Virginia soil is to be given up without a -bitter fight for it. We have one hundred and five thousand men in all, -McClellan one hundred and ninety thousand. We can stand that disparity.” - -What things I have been said to have said! Mr. —— heard me make scoffing -remarks about the Governor and the Council—or he thinks he heard me. -James Chesnut wrote him a note that my name was to be kept out of -it—indeed, that he was never to mention my name again under any possible -circumstances. It was all preposterous nonsense, but it annoyed my -husband amazingly. He said it was a scheme to use my chatter to his -injury. He was very kind about it. He knows my real style so well that he -can always tell my real impudence from what is fabricated for me. - -There is said to be an order from Butler[80] turning over the women -of New Orleans to his soldiers. Thus is the measure of his iniquities -filled. We thought that generals always restrained, by shot or sword if -need be, the brutality of soldiers. This hideous, cross-eyed beast orders -his men to treat the ladies of New Orleans as women of the town—to punish -them, he says, for their insolence. - -Footprints on the boundaries of another world once more. Willie Taylor, -before he left home for the army, fancied one day—_day_, remember—that -he saw Albert Rhett standing by his side. He recoiled from the ghostly -presence. “You need not do that, Willie. You will soon be as I am.” -Willie rushed into the next room to tell them what had happened, and -fainted. It had a very depressing effect upon him. And now the other day -he died in Virginia. - -_May 24th._—The enemy are landing at Georgetown. With a little more -audacity where could they not land? But we have given them such a scare, -they are cautious. If it be true, I hope some cool-headed white men will -make the negroes save the rice for us. It is so much needed. They say -it might have been done at Port Royal with a little more energy. South -Carolinians have pluck enough, but they only work by fits and starts; -there is no continuous effort; they can’t be counted on for steady work. -They will stop to play—or enjoy life in some shape. - -Without let or hindrance Halleck is being reenforced. Beauregard, -unmolested, was making some fine speeches—and issuing proclamations, -while we were fatuously looking for him to make a tiger’s spring on -Huntsville. Why not? Hope springs eternal in the Southern breast. - -My Hebrew friend, Mem Cohen, has a son in the war. He is in John -Chesnut’s company. Cohen is a high name among the Jews: it means Aaron. -She has long fits of silence, and is absent-minded. If she is suddenly -roused, she is apt to say, with overflowing eyes and clasped hands, “If -it please God to spare his life.” Her daughter is the sweetest little -thing. The son is the mother’s idol. Mrs. Cohen was Miriam de Leon. I -have known her intimately all my life. - -Mrs. Bartow, the widow of Colonel Bartow, who was killed at Manassas, -was Miss Berrien, daughter of Judge Berrien, of Georgia. She is now in -one of the departments here, cutting bonds—Confederate bonds—for five -hundred Confederate dollars a year, a penniless woman. Judge Carroll, her -brother-in-law, has been urgent with her to come and live in his home. -He has a large family and she will not be an added burden to him. In -spite of all he can say, she will not forego her resolution. She will be -independent. She is a resolute little woman, with the softest, silkiest -voice and ways, and clever to the last point. - -Columbia is the place for good living, pleasant people, pleasant dinners, -pleasant drives. I feel that I have put the dinners in the wrong place. -They are the climax of the good things here. This is the most hospitable -place in the world, and the dinners are worthy of it. - -In Washington, there was an endless succession of state dinners. I -was kindly used. I do not remember ever being condemned to two dull -neighbors: on one side or the other was a clever man; so I liked -Washington dinners. - -In Montgomery, there were a few dinners—Mrs. Pollard’s, for instance, -but the society was not smoothed down or in shape. Such as it was it -was given over to balls and suppers. In Charleston, Mr. Chesnut went to -gentlemen’s dinners all the time; no ladies present. Flowers were sent to -me, and I was taken to drive and asked to tea. There could not have been -nicer suppers, more perfect of their kind than were to be found at the -winding up of those festivities. - -In Richmond, there were balls, which I did not attend—very few to which -I was asked: the MacFarlands’ and Lyons’s, all I can remember. James -Chesnut dined out nearly every day. But then the breakfasts—the Virginia -breakfasts—where were always pleasant people. Indeed, I have had a good -time everywhere—always clever people, and people I liked, and everybody -so good to me. - -Here in Columbia, family dinners are the specialty. You call, or they -pick you up and drive home with you. “Oh, stay to dinner!” and you stay -gladly. They send for your husband, and he comes willingly. Then comes -a perfect dinner. You do not see how it could be improved; and yet they -have not had time to alter things or add because of the unexpected -guests. They have everything of the best—silver, glass, china, table -linen, and damask, etc. And then the planters live “within themselves,” -as they call it. From the plantations come mutton, beef, poultry, cream, -butter, eggs, fruits, and vegetables. - -It is easy to live here, with a cook who has been sent for training -to the best eating-house in Charleston. Old Mrs. Chesnut’s Romeo was -apprenticed at Jones’s. I do not know where Mrs. Preston’s got his -degree, but he deserves a medal. - -At the Prestons’, James Chesnut induced Buck to declaim something about -Joan of Arc, which she does in a manner to touch all hearts. While she -was speaking, my husband turned to a young gentleman who was listening to -the chatter of several girls, and said: “_Écoutez!_” The youth stared at -him a moment in bewilderment; then, gravely rose and began turning down -the gas. Isabella said: “_Écoutez_, then, means put out the lights.” - -I recall a scene which took place during a ball given by Mrs. Preston -while her husband was in Louisiana. Mrs. Preston was resplendent in -diamonds, point lace, and velvet. There is a gentle dignity about her -which is very attractive; her voice is low and sweet, and her will is -iron. She is exceedingly well informed, but very quiet, retiring, and -reserved. Indeed, her apparent gentleness almost amounts to timidity. She -has chiseled regularity of features, a majestic figure, perfectly molded. - -Governor Manning said to me: “Look at Sister Caroline. Does she look as -if she had the pluck of a heroine?” Then he related how a little while -ago William, the butler, came to tell her that John, the footman, was -drunk in the cellar—mad with drink; that he had a carving-knife which he -was brandishing in drunken fury, and he was keeping everybody from their -business, threatening to kill any one who dared to go into the basement. -They were like a flock of frightened sheep down there. She did not speak -to one of us, but followed William down to the basement, holding up -her skirts. She found the servants scurrying everywhere, screaming and -shouting that John was crazy and going to kill them. John was bellowing -like a bull of Bashan, knife in hand, chasing them at his pleasure. - -Mrs. Preston walked up to him. “Give me that knife,” she demanded. He -handed it to her. She laid it on the table. “Now come with me,” she -said, putting her hand on his collar. She led him away to the empty -smoke-house, and there she locked him in and put the key in her pocket. -Then she returned to her guests, without a ripple on her placid face. -“She told me of it, smiling and serene as you see her now,” the Governor -concluded. - -Before the war shut him in, General Preston sent to the lakes for his -salmon, to Mississippi for his venison, to the mountains for his mutton -and grouse. It is good enough, the best dish at all these houses, what -the Spanish call “the hearty welcome.” Thackeray says at every American -table he was first served with “grilled hostess.” At the head of the -table sat a person, fiery-faced, anxious, nervous, inwardly murmuring, -like Falstaff, “Would it were night, Hal, and all were well.” - -At Mulberry the house is always filled to overflowing, and one day is -curiously like another. People are coming and going, carriages driving -up or driving off. It has the air of a watering-place, where one does -not pay, and where there are no strangers. At Christmas the china closet -gives up its treasures. The glass, china, silver, fine linen reserved -for grand occasions come forth. As for the dinner itself, it is only a -matter of greater quantity—more turkey, more mutton, more partridges, -more fish, etc., and more solemn stiffness. Usually a half-dozen -persons unexpectedly dropping in make no difference. The family let the -housekeeper know; that is all. - -People are beginning to come here from Richmond. One swallow does not -make a summer, but it shows how the wind blows, these straws do—Mrs. -“Constitution” Browne and Mrs. Wise. The Gibsons are at Doctor Gibbes’s. -It does look squally. We are drifting on the breakers. - -_May 29th._—Betsey, recalcitrant maid of the W.’s, has been sold to a -telegraph man. She is as handsome as a mulatto ever gets to be, and -clever in every kind of work. My Molly thinks her mistress “very lucky in -getting rid of her.” She was “a dangerous inmate,” but she will be a good -cook, a good chambermaid, a good dairymaid, a beautiful clear-starcher, -and the most thoroughly good-for-nothing woman I know to her new owners, -if she chooses. Molly evidently hates her, but thinks it her duty “to -stand by her color.” - -Mrs. Gibson is a Philadelphia woman. She is true to her husband and -children, but she does not believe in us—the Confederacy, I mean. She is -despondent and hopeless; as wanting in faith of our ultimate success as -is Sally Baxter Hampton. I make allowances for those people. If I had -married North, they would have a heavy handful in me just now up there. - -Mrs. Chesnut, my mother-in-law, has been sixty years in the South, and -she has not changed in feeling or in taste one iota. She can not like -hominy for breakfast, or rice for dinner, without a relish to give -it some flavor. She can not eat watermelons and sweet potatoes _sans -discrétion_, as we do. She will not eat hot corn bread _à discrétion_, -and hot buttered biscuit without any. - -“Richmond is obliged to fall,” sighed Mrs. Gibson. “You would say so, -too, if you had seen our poor soldiers.” “Poor soldiers?” said I. “Are -you talking of Stonewall Jackson’s men? Poor soldiers, indeed!” She said -her mind was fixed on one point, and had ever been, though she married -and came South: she never would own slaves. “Who would that was not born -to it?” I cried, more excited than ever. She is very handsome, very -clever, and has very agreeable manners. - -“Dear madam,” she says, with tears in her beautiful eyes, “they have -three armies.” “But Stonewall has routed one of them already. Heath -another.” She only answered by an unbelieving moan. “Nothing seemed -to suit her,” I said, as we went away. “You did not certainly,” said -some one to me; “you contradicted every word she said, with a sort of -indignant protest.” - -We met Mrs. Hampton Gibbes at the door—another Virginia woman as good as -gold. They told us Mrs. Davis was delightfully situated at Raleigh; North -Carolinians so loyal, so hospitable; she had not been allowed to eat a -meal at the hotel. “How different from Columbia,” said Doctor Gibbes, -looking at Mrs. Gibson, who has no doubt been left to take all of her -meals at his house. “Oh, no!” cried Mary, “you do Columbia injustice. -Mrs. Chesnut used to tell us that she was never once turned over to the -tender mercies of the Congaree cuisine, and at McMahan’s it is fruit, -flowers, invitations to dinner every day.” - -After we came away, “Why did you not back me up?” I was asked. “Why did -you let them slander Columbia?” “It was awfully awkward,” I said, “but -you see it would have been worse to let Doctor Gibbes and Mrs. Gibson see -how different it was with other people.” - -Took a moonlight walk after tea at the Halcott Greens’. All the company -did honor to the beautiful night by walking home with me. - -Uncle Hamilton Boykin is here, staying at the de Saussures’. He says, -“Manassas was play to Williamsburg,” and he was at both battles. He -lead a part of Stuart’s cavalry in the charge at Williamsburg, riding a -hundred yards ahead of his company. - -Toombs is ready for another revolution, and curses freely everything -Confederate from the President down to a horse boy. He thinks there is a -conspiracy against him in the army. Why? Heavens and earth—why? - -_June 2d._—A battle[81] is said to be raging round Richmond. I am at the -Prestons’. James Chesnut has gone to Richmond suddenly on business of the -Military Department. It is always his luck to arrive in the nick of time -and be present at a great battle. - -Wade Hampton shot in the foot, and Johnston Pettigrew killed. A telegram -says Lee and Davis were both on the field: the enemy being repulsed. -Telegraph operator said: “Madam, our men are fighting.” “Of course they -are. What else is there for them to do now but fight?” “But, madam, the -news is encouraging.” Each army is burying its dead: that looks like a -drawn battle. We haunt the bulletin-board. - -Back to McMahan’s. Mem Cohen is ill. Her daughter, Isabel, warns me not -to mention the battle raging around Richmond. Young Cohen is in it. Mrs. -Preston, anxious and unhappy about her sons. John is with General Huger -at Richmond; Willie in the swamps on the coast with his company. Mem -tells me her cousin, Edwin de Leon, is sent by Mr. Davis on a mission to -England. - -Rev. Robert Barnwell has returned to the hospital. Oh, that we had given -our thousand dollars to the hospital and not to the gunboat! “Stonewall -Jackson’s movements,” the Herald says, “do us no harm; it is bringing -out volunteers in great numbers.” And a Philadelphia paper abused us so -fervently I felt all the blood in me rush to my head with rage. - -_June 3d._—Doctor John Cheves is making infernal machines in Charleston -to blow the Yankees up; pretty name they have, those machines. My horses, -the overseer says, are too poor to send over. There was corn enough on -the place for two years, they said, in January; now, in June, they write -that it will not last until the new crop comes in. Somebody is having a -good time on the plantation, if it be not my poor horses. - -Molly will tell me all when she comes back, and more. Mr. Venable has -been made an aide to General Robert E. Lee. He is at Vicksburg, and -writes, “When the fight is over here, I shall be glad to go to Virginia.” -He is in capital spirits. I notice army men all are when they write. - -_Apropos_ of calling Major Venable “Mr.” Let it be noted that in social -intercourse we are not prone to give handles to the names of those we -know well and of our nearest and dearest. A general’s wife thinks it bad -form to call her husband anything but “Mr.” When she gives him his title, -she simply “drops” into it by accident. If I am “mixed” on titles in this -diary, let no one blame me. - -Telegrams come from Richmond ordering troops from Charleston. Can not -be sent, for the Yankees are attacking Charleston, doubtless with the -purpose to prevent Lee’s receiving reenforcements from there. - -Sat down at my window in the beautiful moonlight, and tried hard -for pleasant thoughts. A man began to play on the flute, with piano -accompaniment, first, “Ever of thee I am fondly dreaming,” and then, “The -long, long, weary day.” At first, I found this but a complement to the -beautiful scene, and it was soothing to my wrought-up nerves. But Von -Weber’s “Last Waltz” was too much; I broke down. Heavens, what a bitter -cry came forth, with such floods of tears! the wonder is there was any of -me left. - -I learn that Richmond women go in their carriages for the wounded, carry -them home and nurse them. One saw a man too weak to hold his musket. She -took it from him, put it on her shoulder, and helped the poor fellow -along. - -If ever there was a man who could control every expression of emotion, -who could play stoic, or an Indian chief, it is James Chesnut. But one -day when he came in from the Council he had to own to a break-down. -He was awfully ashamed of his weakness. There was a letter from Mrs. -Gaillard asking him to help her, and he tried to read it to the Council. -She wanted a permit to go on to her son, who lies wounded in Virginia. -Colonel Chesnut could not control his voice. There was not a dry eye -there, when suddenly one man called out, “God bless the woman.” - -Johnston Pettigrew’s aide says he left his chief mortally wounded on the -battle-field. Just before Johnston Pettigrew went to Italy to take a hand -in the war there for freedom, I met him one day at Mrs. Frank Hampton’s. -A number of people were present. Some one spoke of the engagement of the -beautiful Miss —— to Hugh Rose. Some one else asked: “How do you know -they are engaged?” “Well, I never heard it, but I saw it. In London, a -month or so ago, I entered Mrs. ——’s drawing-room, and I saw these two -young people seated on a sofa opposite the door.” “Well, that amounted to -nothing.” “No, not in itself. But they looked so foolish and so happy. -I have noticed newly engaged people always look that way.” And so on. -Johnston Pettigrew was white and red in quick succession during this -turn of the conversation; he was in a rage of indignation and disgust. “I -think this kind of talk is taking a liberty with the young lady’s name,” -he exclaimed finally, “and that it is an impertinence in us.” I fancy him -left dying alone! I wonder what they feel—those who are left to die of -their wounds—alone—on the battle-field. - -Free schools are not everything, as witness this spelling. Yankee -epistles found in camp show how illiterate they can be, with all their -boasted schools. Fredericksburg is spelled “Fredrexbirg,” medicine, -“metison,” and we read, “To my sweat brother,” etc. For the first time in -my life no books can interest me. Life is so real, so utterly earnest, -that fiction is flat. Nothing but what is going on in this distracted -world of ours can arrest my attention for ten minutes at a time. - -_June 4th._—Battles occur near Richmond, with bombardment of Charleston. -Beauregard is said to be fighting his way out or in. - -Mrs. Gibson is here, at Doctor Gibbes’s. Tears are always in her eyes. -Her eldest son is Willie Preston’s lieutenant. They are down on the -coast. She owns that she has no hope at all. She was a Miss Ayer, of -Philadelphia, and says, “We may look for Burnside now, our troops which -held him down to his iron flotilla have been withdrawn. They are three -to one against us now, and they have hardly begun to put out their -strength—in numbers, I mean. We have come to the end of our tether, -except we wait for the yearly crop of boys as they grow up to the -requisite age.” She would make despondent the most sanguine person alive. -“As a general rule,” says Mrs. Gibson, “government people are sanguine, -but the son of one high functionary whispered to Mary G., as he handed -her into the car, ‘Richmond is bound to go.’” The idea now is that we are -to be starved out. If they shut us in, prolong the agony, it can then -have but one end. - -Mrs. Preston and I speak in whispers, but Mrs. McCord scorns whispers, -and speaks out. She says: “There are our soldiers. Since the world began -there never were better, but God does not deign to send us a general -worthy of them. I do not mean drill-sergeants or military old maids, -who will not fight until everything is just so. The real ammunition of -our war is faith in ourselves and enthusiasm in our cause. West Point -sits down on enthusiasm, laughs it to scorn. It wants discipline. And -now comes a new danger, these blockade-runners. They are filling their -pockets and they gibe and sneer at the fools who fight. Don’t you see -this Stonewall, how he fires the soldiers’ hearts; he will be our leader, -maybe after all. They say he does not care how many are killed. His -business is to save the country, not the army. He fights to win, God -bless him, and he wins. If they do not want to be killed, they can stay -at home. They say he leaves the sick and wounded to be cared for by those -whose business it is to do so. His business is war. They say he wants to -hoist the black flag, have a short, sharp, decisive war and end it. He is -a Christian soldier.” - -_June 5th._—Beauregard retreating and his rear-guard cut off. If -Beauregard’s veterans will not stand, why should we expect our newly -levied reserves to do it? The Yankee general who is besieging Savannah -announces his orders are “to take Savannah in two weeks’ time, and then -proceed to erase Charleston from the face of the earth.” - -Albert Luryea was killed in the battle of June 1st. Last summer when a -bomb fell in the very thick of his company he picked it up and threw -it into the water. Think of that, those of ye who love life! The -company sent the bomb to his father. Inscribed on it were the words, -“Albert Luryea, bravest where all are brave.” Isaac Hayne did the same -thing at Fort Moultrie. This race has brains enough, but they are not -active-minded like those old Revolutionary characters, the Middletons, -Lowndeses, Rutledges, Marions, Sumters. They have come direct from -active-minded fore-fathers, or they would not have been here; but, with -two or three generations of gentlemen planters, how changed has the -blood become! Of late, all the active-minded men who have sprung to -the front in our government were immediate descendants of Scotch, or -Scotch-Irish—Calhoun, McDuffie, Cheves, and Petigru, who Huguenotted his -name, but could not tie up his Irish. Our planters are nice fellows, but -slow to move; impulsive but hard to keep moving. They are wonderful for a -spurt, but with all their strength, they like to rest. - -_June 6th._—Paul Hayne, the poet, has taken rooms here. My husband came -and offered to buy me a pair of horses. He says I need more exercise in -the open air. “Come, now, are you providing me with the means of a rapid -retreat?” said I. “I am pretty badly equipped for marching.” - -Mrs. Rose Greenhow is in Richmond. One-half of the ungrateful -Confederates say Seward sent her. My husband says the Confederacy owes -her a debt it can never pay. She warned them at Manassas, and so they -got Joe Johnston and his Paladins to appear upon the stage in the very -nick of time. In Washington they said Lord Napier left her a legacy to -the British Legation, which accepted the gift, unlike the British nation, -who would not accept Emma Hamilton and her daughter, Horatia, though they -were willed to the nation by Lord Nelson. - -Mem Cohen, fresh from the hospital where she went with a beautiful Jewish -friend. Rachel, as we will call her (be it her name or no), was put to -feed a very weak patient. Mem noticed what a handsome fellow he was and -how quiet and clean. She fancied by those tokens that he was a gentleman. -In performance of her duties, the lovely young nurse leaned kindly over -him and held the cup to his lips. When that ceremony was over and she -had wiped his mouth, to her horror she felt a pair of by no means weak -arms around her neck and a kiss upon her lips, which she thought strong, -indeed. She did not say a word; she made no complaint. She slipped away -from the hospital, and hereafter in her hospital work will minister at -long range, no matter how weak and weary, sick and sore, the patient may -be. “And,” said Mem, “I thought he was a gentleman.” “Well, a gentleman -is a man, after all, and she ought not to have put those red lips of hers -so near.” - -_June 7th._—Cheves McCord’s battery on the coast has three guns and one -hundred men. If this battery should be captured John’s Island and James -Island would be open to the enemy, and so Charleston exposed utterly. - -Wade Hampton writes to his wife that Chickahominy was not as decided a -victory as he could have wished. Fort Pillow and Memphis[82] have been -given up. Next! and next! - -_June 9th._—When we read of the battles in India, in Italy, in the -Crimea, what did we care? Only an interesting topic, like any other, -to look for in the paper. Now you hear of a battle with a thrill and a -shudder. It has come home to us; half the people that we know in the -world are under the enemy’s guns. A telegram reaches you, and you leave -it on your lap. You are pale with fright. You handle it, or you dread to -touch it, as you would a rattlesnake; worse, worse, a snake could only -strike you. How many, many will this scrap of paper tell you have gone to -their death? - -When you meet people, sad and sorrowful is the greeting; they press your -hand; tears stand in their eyes or roll down their cheeks, as they happen -to possess more or less self-control. They have brother, father, or sons -as the case may be, in battle. And now this thing seems never to stop. We -have no breathing time given us. It can not be so at the North, for the -papers say gentlemen do not go into the ranks there, but are officers, or -clerks of departments. Then we see so many members of foreign regiments -among our prisoners—Germans, Irish, Scotch. The proportion of trouble is -awfully against us. Every company on the field, rank and file, is filled -with our nearest and dearest, who are common soldiers. - -Mem Cohen’s story to-day. A woman she knew heard her son was killed, and -had hardly taken in the horror of it when they came to say it was all a -mistake in the name. She fell on her knees with a shout of joy. “Praise -the Lord, O my soul!” she cried, in her wild delight. The household was -totally upset, the swing-back of the pendulum from the scene of weeping -and wailing of a few moments before was very exciting. In the midst of -this hubbub the hearse drove up with the poor boy in his metallic coffin. -Does anybody wonder so many women die? Grief and constant anxiety kill -nearly as many women at home as men are killed on the battle-field. Mem’s -friend is at the point of death with brain fever; the sudden changes from -grief to joy and joy to grief were more than she could bear. - -A story from New Orleans. As some Yankees passed two boys playing in the -street, one of the boys threw a handful of burned cotton at them, saying, -“I keep this for you.” The other, not to be outdone, spit at the Yankees, -and said, “I keep this for you.” The Yankees marked the house. Afterward, -a corporal’s guard came. Madam was affably conversing with a friend, and -in vain, the friend, who was a mere morning caller, protested he was not -the master of the house; he was marched off to prison. - -Mr. Moise got his money out of New Orleans. He went to a station with his -two sons, who were quite small boys. When he got there, the carriage that -he expected was not to be seen. He had brought no money with him, knowing -he might be searched. Some friend called out, “I will lend you my horse, -but then you will be obliged to leave the children.” This offer was -accepted, and, as he rode off, one of the boys called out, “Papa, here is -your tobacco, which you have forgotten.” Mr. Moise turned back and the -boy handed up a roll of tobacco, which he had held openly in his hand all -the time. Mr. Moise took it, and galloped off, waving his hat to them. In -that roll of tobacco was encased twenty-five thousand dollars. - -Now, the Mississippi is virtually open to the Yankees. Beauregard has -evacuated Corinth.[83] - -Henry Nott was killed at Shiloh; Mrs. Auzé wrote to tell us. She had no -hope. To be conquered and ruined had always been her fate, strive as she -might, and now she knew it would be through her country that she would be -made to feel. She had had more than most women to endure, and the battle -of life she had tried to fight with courage, patience, faith. Long years -ago, when she was young, her lover died. Afterward, she married another. -Then her husband died, and next her only son. When New Orleans fell, her -only daughter was there and Mrs. Auzé went to her. Well may she say that -she has bravely borne her burden till now.[84] - -Stonewall said, in his quaint way: “I like strong drink, so I never touch -it.” May heaven, who sent him to help us, save him from all harm! - -My husband traced Stonewall’s triumphal career on the map. He has -defeated Frémont and taken all his cannon; now he is after Shields. -The language of the telegram is vague: “Stonewall has taken plenty of -prisoners”—plenty, no doubt, and enough and to spare. We can’t feed our -own soldiers, and how are we to feed prisoners? - -They denounce Toombs in some Georgia paper, which I saw to-day, for -planting a full crop of cotton. They say he ought to plant provisions for -soldiers. - -And now every man in Virginia, and the eastern part of South Carolina is -in revolt, because old men and boys are ordered out as a reserve corps, -and worst of all, sacred property, that is, negroes, have been seized and -sent out to work on the fortifications along the coast line. We are in a -fine condition to fortify Columbia! - -_June 10th._—General Gregg writes that Chickahominy[85] was a victory -_manqué_, because Joe Johnston received a disabling wound and G. W. Smith -was ill. The subordinates in command had not been made acquainted with -the plan of battle. - -A letter from John Chesnut, who says it must be all a mistake about Wade -Hampton’s wound, for he saw him in the field to the very last; that is, -until late that night. Hampton writes to Mary McDuffie that the ball -was extracted from his foot on the field, and that he was in the saddle -all day, but that, when he tried to take his boot off at night his foot -was so inflamed and swollen, the boot had to be cut away, and the wound -became more troublesome than he had expected. - -Mrs. Preston sent her carriage to take us to see Mrs. Herbemont, whom -Mary Gibson calls her “Mrs. Burgamot.” Miss Bay came down, ever-blooming, -in a cap so formidable, I could but laugh. It was covered with a -bristling row of white satin spikes. She coyly refused to enter Mrs. -Preston’s carriage—“to put foot into it,” to use her own words; but she -allowed herself to be overpersuaded. - -I am so ill. Mrs. Ben Taylor said to Doctor Trezevant, “Surely, she is -too ill to be going about; she ought to be in bed.” “She is very feeble, -very nervous, as you say, but then she is living on nervous excitement. -If you shut her up she would die at once.” A queer weakness of the -heart, I have. Sometimes it beats so feebly I am sure it has stopped -altogether. Then they say I have fainted, but I never lose consciousness. - -Mrs. Preston and I were talking of negroes and cows. A negro, no matter -how sensible he is on any other subject, can never be convinced that -there is any necessity to feed a cow. “Turn ’em out, and let ’em grass. -Grass good nuff for cow.” - -Famous news comes from Richmond, but not so good from the coast. Mrs. -Izard said, quoting I forget whom: “If West Point could give brains -as well as training!” Smith is under arrest for disobedience of -orders—Pemberton’s orders. This is the third general whom Pemberton has -displaced within a few weeks—Ripley, Mercer, and now Smith. - -When I told my husband that Molly was full of airs since her late trip -home, he made answer: “Tell her to go to the devil—she or anybody else -on the plantation who is dissatisfied; let them go. It is bother enough -to feed and clothe them now.” When he went over to the plantation he -returned charmed with their loyalty to him, their affection and their -faithfulness. - -Sixteen more Yankee regiments have landed on James Island. Eason writes, -“They have twice the energy and enterprise of our people.” I answered, -“Wait a while. Let them alone until climate and mosquitoes and sand-flies -and dealing with negroes takes it all out of them.” Stonewall is a -regular brick, going all the time, winning his way wherever he goes. -Governor Pickens called to see me. His wife is in great trouble, anxiety, -uncertainty. Her brother and her brother-in-law are either killed or -taken prisoners. - -Tom Taylor says Wade Hampton did not leave the field on account of his -wound. “What heroism!” said some one. No, what luck! He is the luckiest -man alive. He’ll never be killed. He was shot in the temple, but that -did not kill him. His soldiers believe in his luck. - -General Scott, on Southern soldiers, says, we have _élan_, courage, -woodcraft, consummate horsemanship, endurance of pain equal to the -Indians, but that we will not submit to discipline. We will not take -care of things, or husband our resources. Where we are there is waste -and destruction. If it could all be done by one wild, desperate dash, we -would do it. But he does not think we can stand the long, blank months -between the acts—the waiting! We can bear pain without a murmur, but we -will not submit to be bored, etc. - -Now, for the other side. Men of the North can wait; they can bear -discipline; they can endure forever. Losses in battle are nothing to -them. Their resources in men and materials of war are inexhaustible, -and if they see fit they will fight to the bitter end. Here is a nice -prospect for us—as comfortable as the old man’s croak at Mulberry, “Bad -times, worse coming.” - -Mrs. McCord says, “In the hospital the better born, that is, those born -in the purple, the gentry, those who are accustomed to a life of luxury, -are the better patients. They endure in silence. They are hardier, -stronger, tougher, less liable to break down than the sons of the soil.” -“Why is that?” I asked, and she answered, “Something in man that is more -than the body.” - -I know how it feels to die. I have felt it again and again. For instance, -some one calls out, “Albert Sidney Johnston is killed.” My heart stands -still. I feel no more. I am, for so many seconds, so many minutes, I know -not how long, utterly without sensation of any kind—dead; and then, there -is that great throb, that keen agony of physical pain, and the works are -wound up again. The ticking of the clock begins, and I take up the burden -of life once more. Some day it will stop too long, or my feeble heart -will be too worn out to make that awakening jar, and all will be over. -I do not think when the end comes that there will be any difference, -except the miracle of the new wind-up throb. And now good news is just as -exciting as bad. “Hurrah, Stonewall has saved us!” The pleasure is almost -pain because of my way of feeling it. - -Miriam’s Luryea and the coincidences of his life. He was born Moses, and -is the hero of the bombshell. His mother was at a hotel in Charleston -when kind-hearted Anna De Leon Moses went for her sister-in-law, and -gave up her own chamber, that the child might be born in the comfort -and privacy of a home. Only our people are given to such excessive -hospitality. So little Luryea was born in Anna De Leon’s chamber. After -Chickahominy when he, now a man, lay mortally wounded, Anna Moses, who -was living in Richmond, found him, and she brought him home, though her -house was crowded to the door-steps. She gave up her chamber to him, and -so, as he had been born in her room, in her room he died. - -_June 12th._—New England’s Butler, best known to us as “Beast” Butler, is -famous or infamous now. His amazing order to his soldiers at New Orleans -and comments on it are in everybody’s mouth. We hardly expected from -Massachusetts behavior to shame a Comanche. - -One happy moment has come into Mrs. Preston’s life. I watched her face -to-day as she read the morning papers. Willie’s battery is lauded to the -skies. Every paper gave him a paragraph of praise. - -South Carolina was at Beauregard’s feet after Fort Sumter. Since Shiloh, -she has gotten up, and looks askance rather when his name is mentioned. -And without Price or Beauregard who takes charge of the Western forces? -“Can we hold out if England and France hold off?” cries Mem. “No, our -time has come.” - -“For shame, faint heart! Our people are brave, our cause is just; our -spirit and our patient endurance beyond reproach.” Here came in Mary -Cantey’s voice: “I may not have any logic, any sense. I give it up. My -woman’s instinct tells me, all the same, that slavery’s time has come. -If we don’t end it, they will.” - -After all this, tried to read Uncle Tom, but could not; too sickening; -think of a man sending his little son to beat a human being tied to a -tree. It is as bad as Squeers beating Smike. Flesh and blood revolt; you -must skip that; it is too bad. - -Mr. Preston told a story of Joe Johnston as a boy. A party of boys at -Abingdon were out on a spree, more boys than horses; so Joe Johnston rode -behind John Preston, who is his cousin. While going over the mountains -they tried to change horses and got behind a servant who was in charge of -them all. The servant’s horse kicked up, threw Joe Johnston, and broke -his leg; a bone showed itself. “Hello, boys! come here and look: the -confounded bone has come clear through,” called out Joe, coolly. - -They had to carry him on their shoulders, relieving guard. As one party -grew tired, another took him up. They knew he must suffer fearfully, but -he never said so. He was as cool and quiet after his hurt as before. -He was pretty roughly handled, but they could not help it. His father -was in a towering rage because his son’s leg was to be set by a country -doctor, and it might be crooked in the process. At Chickahominy, brave -but unlucky Joe had already eleven wounds. - -_June 13th._—Decca’s wedding. It took place last year. We were all lying -on the bed or sofas taking it coolly as to undress. Mrs. Singleton had -the floor. They were engaged before they went up to Charlottesville; -Alexander was on Gregg’s staff, and Gregg was not hard on him; Decca was -the worst in love girl she ever saw. “Letters came while we were at the -hospital, from Alex, urging her to let him marry her at once. In war -times human events, life especially, are very uncertain. - -“For several days consecutively she cried without ceasing, and then she -consented. The rooms at the hospital were all crowded. Decca and I slept -together in the same room. It was arranged by letter that the marriage -should take place; a luncheon at her grandfather Minor’s, and then she -was to depart with Alex for a few days at Richmond. That was to be their -brief slice of honeymoon. - -“The day came. The wedding-breakfast was ready, so was the bride in -all her bridal array; but no Alex, no bridegroom. Alas! such is the -uncertainty of a soldier’s life. The bride said nothing, but she wept -like a water-nymph. At dinner she plucked up heart, and at my earnest -request was about to join us. And then the cry, ‘The bridegroom cometh.’ -He brought his best man and other friends. We had a jolly dinner. -‘Circumstances over which he had no control’ had kept him away. - -“His father sat next to Decca and talked to her all the time as if she -had been already married. It was a piece of absent-mindedness on his -part, pure and simple, but it was very trying, and the girl had had much -to stand that morning, you can well understand. Immediately after dinner -the belated bridegroom proposed a walk; so they went for a brief stroll -up the mountain. Decca, upon her return, said to me: ‘Send for Robert -Barnwell. I mean to be married to-day.’ - -“‘Impossible. No spare room in the house. No getting away from here; the -trains all gone. Don’t you know this hospital place is crammed to the -ceiling?’ ‘Alex says I promised to marry him to-day. It is not his fault; -he could not come before.’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t care,’ said the -positive little thing, ‘I promised Alex to marry him to-day and I will. -Send for the Rev. Robert Barnwell.’ We found Robert after a world of -trouble, and the bride, lovely in Swiss muslin, was married. - -“Then I proposed they should take another walk, and I went to one of my -sister nurses and begged her to take me in for the night, as I wished to -resign my room to the young couple. At daylight next day they took the -train for Richmond.” Such is the small allowance of honeymoon permitted -in war time. - -Beauregard’s telegram: he can not leave the army of the West. His health -is bad. No doubt the sea breezes would restore him, but—he can not come -now. Such a lovely name—Gustave Tautant Beauregard. But Jackson and -Johnston and Smith and Jones will do—and Lee, how short and sweet. - -“Every day,” says Mem, “they come here in shoals—men to say we can not -hold Richmond, and we can not hold Charleston much longer. Wretches, -beasts! Why do you come here? Why don’t you stay there and fight? Don’t -you see that you own yourselves cowards by coming away in the very face -of a battle? If you are not liars as to the danger, you are cowards to -run away from it.” Thus roars the practical Mem, growing more furious at -each word. These Jeremiahs laugh. They think she means others, not the -present company. - -Tom Huger resigned his place in the United States Navy and came to us. -The Iroquois was his ship in the old navy. They say, as he stood in the -rigging, after he was shot in the leg, when his ship was leading the -attack upon the Iroquois, his old crew in the Iroquois cheered him, and -when his body was borne in, the Federals took off their caps in respect -for his gallant conduct. When he was dying, Meta Huger said to him: “An -officer wants to see you: he is one of the enemy.” “Let him come in; I -have no enemies now.” But when he heard the man’s name: - -“No, no. I do not want to see a Southern man who is now in Lincoln’s -navy.” The officers of the United States Navy attended his funeral. - -_June 14th._—All things are against us. Memphis gone. Mississippi fleet -annihilated, and we hear it all as stolidly apathetic as if it were a -story of the English war against China which happened a year or so ago. - -The sons of Mrs. John Julius Pringle have come. They were left at -school in the North. A young Huger is with them. They seem to have had -adventures enough. Walked, waded, rowed in boats, if boats they could -find; swam rivers when boats there were none; brave lads are they. One -can but admire their pluck and energy. Mrs. Fisher, of Philadelphia, -_née_ Middleton, gave them money to make the attempt to get home. - -Stuart’s cavalry have rushed through McClellan’s lines and burned five of -his transports. Jackson has been reenforced by 16,000 men, and they hope -the enemy will be drawn from around Richmond, and the valley be the seat -of war. - -John Chesnut is in Whiting’s brigade, which has been sent to Stonewall. -Mem’s son is with the Boykin Rangers; Company A, No. 1, we call it. -And she has persistently wept ever since she heard the news. It is no -child’s play, she says, when you are with Stonewall. He doesn’t play at -soldiering. He doesn’t take care of his men at all. He only goes to kill -the Yankees. - -Wade Hampton is here, shot in the foot, but he knows no more about France -than he does of the man in the moon. Wet blanket he is just now. Johnston -badly wounded. Lee is King of Spades. They are all once more digging for -dear life. Unless we can reenforce Stonewall, the game is up. Our chiefs -contrive to dampen and destroy the enthusiasm of all who go near them. So -much entrenching and falling back destroys the _morale_ of any army. This -everlasting retreating, it kills the hearts of the men. Then we are scant -of powder. - -James Chesnut is awfully proud of Le Conte’s powder manufactory here. Le -Conte knows how to do it. James Chesnut provides him the means to carry -out his plans. - -Colonel Venable doesn’t mince matters: “If we do not deal a blow, a blow -that will be felt, it will be soon all up with us. The Southwest will be -lost to us. We can not afford to shilly-shally much longer.” - -Thousands are enlisting on the other side in New Orleans. Butler holds -out inducements. To be sure, they are principally foreigners who want to -escape starvation. Tennessee we may count on as gone, since we abandoned -her at Corinth, Fort Pillow, and Memphis. A man must be sent there, or it -is all gone now. - -“You call a spade by that name, it seems, and not an agricultural -implement?” “They call Mars Robert ‘Old Spade Lee.’ He keeps them digging -so.” “General Lee is a noble Virginian. Respect something in this world. -Cæsar—call him Old Spade Cæsar? As a soldier, he was as much above -suspicion, as he required his wife to be, as Cæsar’s wife, you know. If -I remember Cæsar’s Commentaries, he owns up to a lot of entrenching. You -let Mars Robert alone. He knows what he is about.” - -“Tell us of the women folk at New Orleans; how did they take the fall of -the city?” “They are an excitable race,” the man from that city said. As -my informant was standing on the levee a daintily dressed lady picked her -way, parasol in hand, toward him. She accosted him with great politeness, -and her face was as placid and unmoved as in antebellum days. Her first -question was: “Will you be so kind as to tell me what is the last general -order?” “No order that I know of, madam; General Disorder prevails now.” -“Ah! I see; and why are those persons flying and yelling so noisily -and racing in the streets in that unseemly way?” “They are looking for -a shell to burst over their heads at any moment.” “Ah!” Then, with a -courtesy of dignity and grace, she waved her parasol and departed, but -stopped to arrange that parasol at a proper angle to protect her face -from the sun. There was no vulgar haste in her movements. She tripped -away as gracefully as she came. My informant had failed to discompose her -by his fearful revelations. That was the one self-possessed soul then in -New Orleans. - -Another woman drew near, so overheated and out of breath, she had -barely time to say she had run miles of squares in her crazy terror and -bewilderment, when a sudden shower came up. In a second she was cool and -calm. She forgot all the questions she came to ask. “My bonnet, I must -save it at any sacrifice,” she said, and so turned her dress over her -head, and went off, forgetting her country’s trouble and screaming for a -cab. - -Went to see Mrs. Burroughs at the old de Saussure house. She has such a -sweet face, such soft, kind, beautiful, dark-gray eyes. Such eyes are -a poem. No wonder she had a long love-story. We sat in the piazza at -twelve o’clock of a June day, the glorious Southern sun shining its very -hottest. But we were in a dense shade—magnolias in full bloom, ivy, vines -of I know not what, and roses in profusion closed us in. It was a living -wall of everything beautiful and sweet. In all this flower-garden of a -Columbia, that is the most delicious corner I have been in yet. - -Got from the Prestons’ French library, Fanny, with a brilliant preface by -Jules Janier. Now, then, I have come to the worst. There can be no worse -book than Fanny. The lover is jealous of the husband. The woman is for -the polyandry rule of life. She cheats both and refuses to break with -either. But to criticize it one must be as shameless as the book itself. -Of course, it is clever to the last degree, or it would be kicked into -the gutter. It is not nastier or coarser than Mrs. Stowe, but then it is -not written in the interests of philanthropy. - -We had an unexpected dinner-party to-day. First, Wade Hampton came and -his wife. Then Mr. and Mrs. Rose. I remember that the late Colonel -Hampton once said to me, a thing I thought odd at the time, “Mrs. James -Rose” (and I forget now who was the other) “are the only two people on -this side of the water who know how to give a state dinner.” Mr. and Mrs. -James Rose: if anybody wishes to describe old Carolina at its best, let -them try their hands at painting these two people. - -Wade Hampton still limps a little, but he is rapidly recovering. Here -is what he said, and he has fought so well that he is listened to: “If -we mean to play at war, as we play a game of chess, West Point tactics -prevailing, we are sure to lose the game. They have every advantage. -They can lose pawns _ad infinitum_, to the end of time and never feel -it. We will be throwing away all that we had hoped so much from—Southern -hot-headed dash, reckless gallantry, spirit of adventure, readiness to -lead forlorn hopes.” - -Mrs. Rose is Miss Sarah Parker’s aunt. Somehow it came out when I was -not in the room, but those girls tell me everything. It seems Miss Sarah -said: “The reason I can not bear Mrs. Chesnut is that she laughs at -everything and at everybody.” If she saw me now she would give me credit -for some pretty hearty crying as well as laughing. It was a mortifying -thing to hear about one’s self, all the same. - -General Preston came in and announced that Mr. Chesnut was in town. He -had just seen Mr. Alfred Huger, who came up on the Charleston train with -him. Then Mrs. McCord came and offered to take me back to Mrs. McMahan’s -to look him up. I found my room locked up. Lawrence said his master had -gone to look for me at the Prestons’. - -Mrs. McCord proposed we should further seek for my errant husband. At the -door, we met Governor Pickens, who showed us telegrams from the President -of the most important nature. The Governor added, “And I have one from -Jeems Chesnut, but I hear he has followed it so closely, coming on its -heels, as it were, that I need not show you that one.” - -“You don’t look interested at the sound of your husband’s name?” said he. -“Is that his name?” asked I. “I supposed it was James.” “My advice to you -is to find him, for Mrs. Pickens says he was last seen in the company of -two very handsome women, and now you may call him any name you please.” - -We soon met. The two beautiful dames Governor Pickens threw in my teeth -were some ladies from Rafton Creek, almost neighbors, who live near -Camden. - -By way of pleasant remark to Wade Hampton: “Oh, General! The next battle -will give you a chance to be major-general.” “I was very foolish to give -up my Legion,” he answered gloomily. “Promotion don’t really annoy many -people.” Mary Gibson says her father writes to them, that they may go -back. He thinks now that the Confederates can hold Richmond. _Gloria in -excelsis!_ - -Another personal defeat. Little Kate said: “Oh, Cousin Mary, why don’t -you cultivate heart? They say at Kirkwood that you had better let your -brains alone a while and cultivate heart.” She had evidently caught up a -phrase and repeated it again and again for my benefit. So that is the way -they talk of me! The only good of loving any one with your whole heart is -to give that person the power to hurt you. - -_June 24th._—Mr. Chesnut, having missed the Secessionville[86] fight by -half a day, was determined to see the one around Richmond. He went off -with General Cooper and Wade Hampton. Blanton Duncan sent them for a -luncheon on board the cars,—ice, wine, and every manner of good thing. - -In all this death and destruction, the women are the same—chatter, -patter, clatter. “Oh, the Charleston refugees are so full of airs; there -is no sympathy for them here!” “Oh, indeed! That is queer. They are not -half as exclusive as these Hamptons and Prestons. The airs these people -do give themselves.” “Airs, airs,” laughed Mrs. Bartow, parodying -Tennyson’s Charge of the Light Brigade. “Airs to the right of them, Airs -to the left of them, some one had blundered.” “Volleyed and thundered -rhymes but is out of place.” - -The worst of all airs came from a democratic landlady, who was asked by -Mrs. President Davis to have a carpet shaken, and shook herself with rage -as she answered, “You know, madam, you need not stay here if my carpet or -anything else does not suit you.” - -John Chesnut gives us a spirited account of their ride around McClellan. -I sent the letter to his grandfather. The women ran out screaming -with joyful welcome as soon as they caught sight of our soldiers’ -gray uniforms; ran to them bringing handfuls and armfuls of food. One -gray-headed man, after preparing a hasty meal for them, knelt and prayed -as they snatched it, as you may say. They were in the saddle from Friday -until Sunday. They were used up; so were their horses. Johnny writes for -clothes and more horses. Miss S. C. says: “No need to send any more of -his fine horses to be killed or captured by the Yankees; wait and see how -the siege of Richmond ends.” The horses will go all the same, as Johnny -wants them. - -_June 25th._—I forgot to tell of Mrs. Pickens’s reception for General -Hampton. My Mem dear, described it all. “The Governess” (“Tut, Mem! that -is not the right name for her—she is not a teacher.” “Never mind, it is -the easier to say than the Governor’s wife.” “_Madame la Gouvernante_” -was suggested. “Why? That is worse than the other!”) met him at the door, -took his crutch away, putting his hand upon her shoulder instead. “That -is the way to greet heroes,” she said. Her blue eyes were aflame, and -in response poor Wade smiled, and smiled until his face hardened into a -fixed grin of embarrassment and annoyance. He is a simple-mannered man, -you know, and does not want to be made much of by women. - -The butler was not in plain clothes, but wore, as the other servants -did, magnificent livery brought from the Court of St. Petersburg, one -mass of gold embroidery, etc. They had champagne and Russian tea, the -latter from a samovar made in Russia. Little Moses was there. Now for -us they have never put their servants into Russian livery, nor paraded -Little Moses under our noses, but I must confess the Russian tea and -champagne set before us left nothing to be desired. “How did General -Hampton bear his honors?” “Well, to the last he looked as if he wished -they would let him alone.” - -Met Mr. Ashmore fresh from Richmond. He says Stonewall is coming up -behind McClellan. And here comes the tug of war. He thinks we have so -many spies in Richmond, they may have found out our strategic movements -and so may circumvent them. - -Mrs. Bartow’s story of a clever Miss Toombs. So many men were in love -with her, and the courtship, while it lasted, of each one was as exciting -and bewildering as a fox-chase. She liked the fun of the run, but she -wanted something more than to know a man was in mad pursuit of her; that -he should love her, she agreed, but she must love him, too. How was she -to tell? Yet she must be certain of it before she said “Yes.” So, as they -sat by the lamp she would look at him and inwardly ask herself, “Would I -be willing to spend the long winter evenings forever after sitting here -darning your old stockings?” Never, echo answered. No, no, a thousand -times no. So, each had to make way for another. - -_June 27th._—We went in a body (half a dozen ladies, with no man on -escort duty, for they are all in the army) to a concert. Mrs. Pickens -came in. She was joined soon by Secretary Moses and Mr. Follen. Doctor -Berrien came to our relief. Nothing could be more execrable than the -singing. Financially the thing was a great success, for though the -audience was altogether feminine, it was a very large one. - -Telegram from Mr. Chesnut, “Safe in Richmond”; that is, if Richmond be -safe, with all the power of the United States of America battering at -her gates. Strange not a word from Stonewall Jackson, after all! Doctor -Gibson telegraphs his wife, “Stay where you are; terrible battle[87] -looked for here.” - -Decca is dead. That poor little darling! Immediately after her baby was -born, she took it into her head that Alex was killed. He was wounded, -but those around had not told her of it. She surprised them by asking, -“Does any one know how the battle has gone since Alex was killed?” She -could not read for a day or so before she died. Her head was bewildered, -but she would not let any one else touch her letters; so she died with -several unopened ones in her bosom. Mrs. Singleton, Decca’s mother, -fainted dead away, but she shed no tears. We went to the house and saw -Alex’s mother, a daughter of Langdon Cheves. Annie was with us. She said: -“This is the saddest thing for Alex.” “No,” said his mother, “death is -never the saddest thing. If he were not a good man, that would be a far -worse thing.” Annie, in utter amazement, whimpered, “But Alex is so good -already.” “Yes, seven years ago the death of one of his sisters that he -dearly loved made him a Christian. That death in our family was worth a -thousand lives.” - -One needs a hard heart now. Even old Mr. Shand shed tears. Mary Barnwell -sat as still as a statue, as white and stony. “Grief which can relieve -itself by tears is a thing to pray for,” said the Rev. Mr. Shand. Then -came a telegram from Hampton, “All well; so far we are successful.” -Robert Barnwell had been telegraphed for. His answer came, “Can’t leave -here; Gregg is fighting across the Chickahominy.” Said Alex’s mother: -“My son, Alex, may never hear this sad news,” and her lip settled -rigidly. “Go on; what else does Hampton say?” asked she. “Lee has one -wing of the army, Stonewall the other.” - -Annie Hampton came to tell us the latest news—that we have abandoned -James Island and are fortifying Morris Island. “And now,” she says, “if -the enemy will be so kind as to wait, we will be ready for them in two -months.” - -Rev. Mr. Shand and that pious Christian woman, Alex’s mother (who looks -into your very soul with those large and lustrous blue eyes of hers) -agreed that the Yankees, even if they took Charleston, would not destroy -it. I think they will, sinner that I am. Mr. Shand remarked to her, -“Madam, you have two sons in the army.” Alex’s mother replied, “I have -had six sons in the army; I now have five.” - -There are people here too small to conceive of any larger business than -quarreling in the newspapers. One laughs at squibs in the papers now, -in such times as these, with the wolf at our doors. Men safe in their -closets writing fiery articles, denouncing those who are at work, are -beneath contempt. Only critics with muskets on their shoulders have the -right to speak now, as Trenholm said the other night. - -In a pouring rain we went to that poor child’s funeral—to Decca’s. They -buried her in the little white frock she wore when she engaged herself -to Alex, and which she again put on for her bridal about a year ago. She -lies now in the churchyard, in sight of my window. Is she to be pitied? -She said she had had “months of perfect happiness.” How many people can -say that? So many of us live their long, dreary lives and then happiness -never comes to meet them at all. It seems so near, and yet it eludes them -forever. - -_June 28th._—Victory! Victory heads every telegram now;[88] one reads -it on the bulletin-board. It is the anniversary of the battle of Fort -Moultrie. The enemy went off so quickly, I wonder if it was not a trap -laid for us, to lead us away from Richmond, to some place where they can -manage to do us more harm. And now comes the list of killed and wounded. -Victory does not seem to soothe sore hearts. Mrs. Haskell has five sons -before the enemy’s illimitable cannon. Mrs. Preston two. McClellan is -routed and we have twelve thousand prisoners. Prisoners! My God! and what -are we to do with them? We can’t feed our own people. - -For the first time since Joe Johnston was wounded at Seven Pines, we -may breathe freely; we were so afraid of another general, or a new one. -Stonewall can not be everywhere, though he comes near it. - -Magruder did splendidly at Big Bethel. It was a wonderful thing how he -played his ten thousand before McClellan like fireflies and utterly -deluded him. It was partly due to the Manassas scare that we gave them; -they will never be foolhardy again. Now we are throwing up our caps for -R. E. Lee. We hope from the Lees what the first sprightly running (at -Manassas) could not give. We do hope there will be no “ifs.” “Ifs” have -ruined us. Shiloh was a victory if Albert Sidney Johnston had not been -killed; Seven Pines if Joe Johnston had not been wounded. The “ifs” -bristle like porcupines. That victory at Manassas did nothing but send -us off in a fool’s paradise of conceit, and it roused the manhood of the -Northern people. For very shame they had to move up. - -A French man-of-war lies at the wharf at Charleston to take off French -subjects when the bombardment begins. William Mazyck writes that the -enemy’s gunboats are shelling and burning property up and down the -Santee River. They raise the white flag and the negroes rush down on -them. Planters might as well have let these negroes be taken by the -Council to work on the fortifications. A letter from my husband: - - RICHMOND, _June 29, 1862_. - - MY DEAR MARY: - - For the last three days I have been a witness of the most - stirring events of modern times. On my arrival here, I found - the government so absorbed in the great battle pending, that I - found it useless to talk of the special business that brought - me to this place. As soon as it is over, which will probably be - to-morrow, I think that I can easily accomplish all that I was - sent for. I have no doubt that we can procure another general - and more forces, etc. - - The President and General Lee are inclined to listen to me, - and to do all they can for us. General Lee is vindicating the - high opinion I have ever expressed of him, and his plans and - executions of the last great fight will place him high in the - roll of really great commanders. - - The fight on Friday was the largest and fiercest of the whole - war. Some 60,000 or 70,000, with great preponderance on the - side of the enemy. Ground, numbers, armament, etc., were all in - favor of the enemy. But our men and generals were superior. The - higher officers and men behaved with a resolution and dashing - heroism that have never been surpassed in any country or in any - age. - - Our line was three times repulsed by superior numbers and - superior artillery impregnably posted. Then Lee, assembling - all his generals to the front, told them that victory depended - on carrying the batteries and defeating the army before them, - ere night should fall. Should night come without victory all - was lost, and the work must be done by the bayonet. Our men - then made a rapid and irresistible charge, without powder, and - carried everything. The enemy melted before them, and ran - with the utmost speed, though of the regulars of the Federal - army. The fight between the artillery of the opposing forces - was terrific and sublime. The field became one dense cloud - of smoke, so that nothing could be seen, but the incessant - flash of fire. They were within sixteen hundred yards of each - other and it rained storms of grape and canister. We took - twenty-three pieces of their artillery, many small arms, and - small ammunition. They burned most of their stores, wagons, etc. - - The victory of the second day was full and complete. Yesterday - there was little or no fighting, but some splendid maneuvering, - which has placed us completely around them. I think the end - must be decisive in our favor. We have lost many men and many - officers; I hear Alex Haskell and young McMahan are among them, - as well as a son of Dr. Trezevant. Very sad, indeed. We are - fighting again to-day; will let you know the result as soon as - possible. Will be at home some time next week. No letter from - you yet. - - With devotion, yours, - - JAMES CHESNUT. - -A telegram from my husband of June 29th from Richmond: “Was on the field, -saw it all. Things satisfying so far. Can hear nothing of John Chesnut. -He is in Stuart’s command. Saw Jack Preston; safe so far. No reason why -we should not bag McClellan’s army or cut it to pieces. From four to six -thousand prisoners already.” Doctor Gibbes rushed in like a whirlwind to -say we were driving McClellan into the river. - -_June 30th._—First came Dr. Trezevant, who announced Burnet Rhett’s -death. “No, no; I have just seen the bulletin-board. It was Grimké -Rhett’s.” When the doctor went out it was added: “Howell Trezevant’s -death is there, too. The doctor will see it as soon as he goes down to -the board.” The girls went to see Lucy Trezevant. The doctor was lying -still as death on a sofa with his face covered. - -_July 1st._—No more news. It has settled down into this. The general -battle, the decisive battle, has to be fought yet. Edward Cheves, only -son of John Cheves, killed. His sister kept crying, “Oh, mother, what -shall we do; Edward is killed,” but the mother sat dead still, white as a -sheet, never uttering a word or shedding a tear. Are our women losing the -capacity to weep? The father came to-day, Mr. John Cheves. He has been -making infernal machines in Charleston to blow up Yankee ships. - -While Mrs. McCord was telling me of this terrible trouble in her -brother’s family, some one said: “Decca’s husband died of grief.” Stuff -and nonsense; silly sentiment, folly! If he is not wounded, he is alive. -His brother, John, may die of that shattered arm in this hot weather. -Alex will never die of a broken heart. Take my word for it. - -_July 3d._—Mem says she feels like sitting down, as an Irishwoman does -at a wake, and howling night and day. Why did Huger let McClellan slip -through his fingers? Arrived at Mrs. McMahan’s at the wrong moment. Mrs. -Bartow was reading to the stricken mother an account of the death of her -son. The letter was written by a man who was standing by him when he was -shot through the head. “My God!” he said; that was all, and he fell dead. -James Taylor was color-bearer. He was shot three times before he gave in. -Then he said, as he handed the colors to the man next him, “You see I -can’t stand it any longer,” and dropped stone dead. He was only seventeen -years old. - -If anything can reconcile me to the idea of a horrid failure after -all efforts to make good our independence of Yankees, it is Lincoln’s -proclamation freeing the negroes. Especially yours, Messieurs, who write -insults to your Governor and Council, dated from Clarendon. Three hundred -of Mr. Walter Blake’s negroes have gone to the Yankees. Remember, that -recalcitrant patriot’s property on two legs may walk off without an -order from the Council to work on fortifications. - -Have been reading The Potiphar Papers by Curtis. Can this be a picture of -New York socially? If it were not for this horrid war, how nice it would -be here. We might lead such a pleasant life. This is the most perfectly -appointed establishment—such beautiful grounds, flowers, and fruits; -indeed, all that heart could wish; such delightful dinners, such pleasant -drives, such jolly talks, such charming people; but this horrid war -poisons everything. - -_July 5th._—Drove out with Mrs. “Constitution” Browne, who told -us the story of Ben McCulloch’s devotion to Lucy Gwynn. Poor Ben -McCulloch—another dead hero. Called at the Tognos’ and saw no one; no -wonder. They say Ascelie Togno was to have been married to Grimké Rhett -in August, and he is dead on the battle-field. I had not heard of the -engagement before I went there. - -_July 8th._—Gunboat captured on the Santee. So much the worse for us. We -do not want any more prisoners, and next time they will send a fleet of -boats, if one will not do. The Governor sent me Mr. Chesnut’s telegram -with a note saying, “I regret the telegram does not come up to what we -had hoped might be as to the entire destruction of McClellan’s army. I -think, however, the strength of the war with its ferocity may now be -considered as broken.” - -Table-talk to-day: This war was undertaken by us to shake off the yoke -of foreign invaders. So we consider our cause righteous. The Yankees, -since the war has begun, have discovered it is to free the slaves that -they are fighting. So their cause is noble. They also expect to make the -war pay. Yankees do not undertake anything that does not pay. They think -we belong to them. We have been good milk cows—milked by the tariff, or -skimmed. We let them have all of our hard earnings. We bear the ban of -slavery; they get the money. Cotton pays everybody who handles it, sells -it, manufactures it, but rarely pays the man who grows it. Second hand -the Yankees received the wages of slavery. They grew rich. We grew poor. -The receiver is as bad as the thief. That applies to us, too, for we -received the savages they stole from Africa and brought to us in their -slave-ships. As with the Egyptians, so it shall be with us: if they let -us go, it must be across a Red Sea—but one made red by blood. - -_July 10th._—My husband has come. He believes from what he heard in -Richmond that we are to be recognized as a nation by the crowned heads -across the water, at last. Mr. Davis was very kind; he asked him to stay -at his house, which he did, and went every day with General Lee and Mr. -Davis to the battle-field as a sort of amateur aide to the President. -Likewise they admitted him to the informal Cabinet meetings at the -President’s house. He is so hopeful now that it is pleasant to hear him, -and I had not the heart to stick the small pins of Yeadon and Pickens in -him yet a while. - -Public opinion is hot against Huger and Magruder for McClellan’s escape. -Doctor Gibbes gave me some letters picked up on the battle-field. One -signed “Laura,” tells her lover to fight in such a manner that no -Southerner can ever taunt Yankees again with cowardice. She speaks of a -man at home whom she knows, “who is still talking of his intention to -seek the bubble reputation at the cannon’s mouth.” “Miserable coward!” -she writes, “I will never speak to him again.” It was a relief to find -one silly young person filling three pages with a description of her new -bonnet and the bonnet still worn by her rival. Those fiery Joan of Arc -damsels who goad on their sweethearts bode us no good. - -Rachel Lyons was in Richmond, hand in glove with Mrs. Greenhow. Why -not? “So handsome, so clever, so angelically kind,” says Rachel of the -Greenhow, “and she offers to matronize me.” - -Mrs. Philips, another beautiful and clever Jewess, has been put into -prison again by “Beast” Butler because she happened to be laughing as a -Yankee funeral procession went by. - -Captain B. told of John Chesnut’s pranks. Johnny was riding a powerful -horse, captured from the Yankees. The horse dashed with him right into -the Yankee ranks. A dozen Confederates galloped after him, shouting, -“Stuart! Stuart!” The Yankees, mistaking this mad charge for Stuart’s -cavalry, broke ranks and fled. Daredevil Camden boys ride like Arabs! - -Mr. Chesnut says he was riding with the President when Colonel Browne, -his aide, was along. The General commanding rode up and, bowing politely, -said: “Mr. President, am I in command here?” “Yes.” “Then I forbid you -to stand here under the enemy’s guns. Any exposure of a life like yours -is wrong, and this is useless exposure. You must go back.” Mr. Davis -answered: “Certainly, I will set an example of obedience to orders. -Discipline must be maintained.” But he did not go back. - -Mr. Chesnut met the Haynes, who had gone on to nurse their wounded son -and found him dead. They were standing in the corridor of the Spotswood. -Although Mr. Chesnut was staying at the President’s, he retained his room -at the hotel. So he gave his room to them. Next day, when he went back -to his room he found that Mrs. Hayne had thrown herself across the foot -of the bed and never moved. No other part of the bed had been touched. -She got up and went back to the cars, or was led back. He says these -heart-broken mothers are hard to face. - -_July 12th._—At McMahan’s our small colonel, Paul Hayne’s son, came into -my room. To amuse the child I gave him a photograph album to look over. -“You have Lincoln in your book!” said he. “I am astonished at you. I hate -him!” And he placed the book on the floor and struck Old Abe in the face -with his fist. - -An Englishman told me Lincoln has said that had he known such a war -would follow his election he never would have set foot in Washington, nor -have been inaugurated. He had never dreamed of this awful fratricidal -bloodshed. That does not seem like the true John Brown spirit. I was very -glad to hear it—to hear something from the President of the United States -which was not merely a vulgar joke, and usually a joke so vulgar that you -were ashamed to laugh, funny though it was. They say Seward has gone to -England and his wily tongue will turn all hearts against us. - -Browne told us there was a son of the Duke of Somerset in Richmond. -He laughed his fill at our ragged, dirty soldiers, but he stopped his -laughing when he saw them under fire. Our men strip the Yankee dead of -their shoes, but will not touch the shoes of a comrade. Poor fellows, -they are nearly barefoot. - -Alex has come. I saw him ride up about dusk and go into the graveyard. I -shut up my windows on that side. Poor fellow! - -_July 13th._—Halcott Green came to see us. Bragg is a stern -disciplinarian, according to Halcott. He did not in the least understand -citizen soldiers. In the retreat from Shiloh he ordered that not a gun -should be fired. A soldier shot a chicken, and then the soldier was shot. -“For a chicken!” said Halcott. “A Confederate soldier for a chicken!” - -Mrs. McCord says a nurse, who is also a beauty, had better leave her -beauty with her cloak and hat at the door. One lovely lady nurse said to -a rough old soldier, whose wound could not have been dangerous, “Well, -my good soul, what can I do for you?” “Kiss me!” said he. Mrs. McCord’s -fury was “at the woman’s telling it,” for it brought her hospital into -disrepute, and very properly. She knew there were women who would boast -of an insult if it ministered to their vanity. She wanted nurses to come -dressed as nurses, as Sisters of Charity, and not as fine ladies. Then -there would be no trouble. When she saw them coming in angel sleeves, -displaying all their white arms and in their muslin, showing all their -beautiful white shoulders and throats, she felt disposed to order them -off the premises. That was no proper costume for a nurse. Mrs. Bartow -goes in her widow’s weeds, which is after Mrs. McCord’s own heart. But -Mrs. Bartow has her stories, too. A surgeon said to her, “I give you no -detailed instructions: a mother necessarily is a nurse.” She then passed -on quietly, “as smilingly acquiescent, my dear, as if I had ever been a -mother.” - -Mrs. Greenhow has enlightened Rachel Lyons as to Mr. Chesnut’s character -in Washington. He was “one of the very few men of whom there was not a -word of scandal spoken. I do not believe, my dear, that he ever spoke to -a woman there.” He did know Mrs. John R. Thompson, however. - -Walked up and down the college campus with Mrs. McCord. The buildings all -lit up with gas, the soldiers seated under the elms in every direction, -and in every stage of convalescence. Through the open windows, could see -the nurses flitting about. It was a strange, weird scene. Walked home -with Mrs. Bartow. We stopped at Judge Carroll’s. Mrs. Carroll gave us a -cup of tea. When we got home, found the Prestons had called for me to -dine at their house to meet General Magruder. - -Last night the Edgefield Band serenaded Governor Pickens. Mrs. Harris -stepped on the porch and sang the Marseillaise for them. It has been more -than twenty years since I first heard her voice; it was a very fine one -then, but there is nothing which the tooth of time lacerates more cruelly -than the singing voice of women. There is an incongruous metaphor for you. - -The negroes on the coast received the Rutledge’s Mounted Rifles -apparently with great rejoicings. The troops were gratified to find the -negroes in such a friendly state of mind. One servant whispered to his -master, “Don’t you mind ’em, don’t trust ’em”—meaning the negroes. The -master then dressed himself as a Federal officer and went down to a negro -quarter. The very first greeting was, “Ki! massa, you come fuh ketch -rebels? We kin show you way you kin ketch thirty to-night.” They took -him to the Confederate camp, or pointed it out, and then added for his -edification, “We kin ketch officer fuh you whenever you want ’em.” - -Bad news. Gunboats have passed Vicksburg. The Yankees are spreading -themselves over our fair Southern land like red ants. - -_July 21st._—Jackson has gone into the enemy’s country. Joe Johnston and -Wade Hampton are to follow. - -Think of Rice, Mr. Senator Rice,[89] who sent us the buffalo-robes. I see -from his place in the Senate that he speaks of us as savages, who put -powder and whisky into soldiers’ canteens to make them mad with ferocity -in the fight. No, never. We admire coolness here, because we lack it; we -do not need to be fired by drink to be brave. My classical lore is small, -indeed, but I faintly remember something of the Spartans who marched to -the music of lutes. No drum and fife were needed to revive their fainting -spirits. In that one thing we are Spartans. - -The Wayside Hospital[90] is duly established at the Columbia Station, -where all the railroads meet. All honor to Mrs. Fisher and the other -women who work there so faithfully! The young girls of Columbia started -this hospital. In the first winter of the war, moneyless soldiers, sick -and wounded, suffered greatly when they had to lie over here because of -faulty connections between trains. Rev. Mr. Martin, whose habit it was -to meet trains and offer his aid to these unfortunates, suggested to the -Young Ladies’ Hospital Association their opportunity; straightway the -blessed maidens provided a room where our poor fellows might have their -wounds bound up and be refreshed. And now, the “Soldiers’ Rest” has grown -into the Wayside Hospital, and older heads and hands relieve younger ones -of the grimmer work and graver responsibilities. I am ready to help in -every way, by subscription and otherwise, but too feeble in health to go -there much. - -Mrs. Browne heard a man say at the Congaree House, “We are breaking our -heads against a stone wall. We are bound to be conquered. We can not keep -it up much longer against so powerful a nation as the United States. -Crowds of Irish, Dutch, and Scotch are pouring in to swell their armies. -They are promised our lands, and they believe they will get them. Even -if we are successful we can not live without Yankees.” “Now,” says Mrs. -Browne, “I call that man a Yankee spy.” To which I reply, “If he were a -spy, he would not dare show his hand so plainly.” - -“To think,” says Mrs. Browne, “that he is not taken up. Seward’s little -bell would tinkle, a guard would come, and the Grand Inquisition of -America would order that man put under arrest in the twinkling of an eye, -if he had ventured to speak against Yankees in Yankee land.” - -General Preston said he had “the right to take up any one who was not -in his right place and send him where he belonged.” “Then do take up my -husband instantly. He is sadly out of his right place in this little -Governor’s Council.” The general stared at me and slowly uttered in his -most tragic tones, “If I could put him where I think he ought to be!” -This I immediately hailed as a high compliment and was duly ready with my -thanks. Upon reflection, it is borne in upon me, that he might have been -more explicit. He left too much to the imagination. - -Then Mrs. Browne described the Prince of Wales, whose manners, it seems, -differ from those of Mrs. ——, who arraigned us from morn to dewy eve, and -upbraided us with our ill-bred manners and customs. The Prince, when he -was here, conformed at once to whatever he saw was the way of those who -entertained him. He closely imitated President Buchanan’s way of doing -things. He took off his gloves at once when he saw that the President -wore none. He began by bowing to the people who were presented to him, -but when he saw Mr. Buchanan shaking hands, he shook hands, too. When -smoking affably with Browne on the White House piazza, he expressed his -content with the fine cigars Browne had given him. The President said: “I -was keeping some excellent ones for you, but Browne has got ahead of me.” -Long after Mr. Buchanan had gone to bed, the Prince ran into his room in -a jolly, boyish way, and said: “Mr. Buchanan, I have come for the fine -cigars you have for me.” - -As I walked up to the Prestons’, along a beautiful shaded back street, a -carriage passed with Governor Means in it. As soon as he saw me he threw -himself half out and kissed both hands to me again and again. It was a -whole-souled greeting, as the saying is, and I returned it with my whole -heart, too. “Good-by,” he cried, and I responded “Good-by.” I may never -see him again. I am not sure that I did not shed a few tears. - -General Preston and Mr. Chesnut were seated on the piazza of the Hampton -house as I walked in. I opened my batteries upon them in this scornful -style: “You cold, formal, solemn, overly-polite creatures, weighed down -by your own dignity. You will never know the rapture of such a sad -farewell as John Means and I have just interchanged. He was in a hack,” I -proceeded to relate, “and I was on the sidewalk. He was on his way to the -war, poor fellow. The hackman drove steadily along in the middle of the -street; but for our gray hairs I do not know what he might have thought -of us. John Means did not suppress his feelings at an unexpected meeting -with an old friend, and a good cry did me good. It is a life of terror -and foreboding we lead. My heart is in my mouth half the time. But you -two, under no possible circumstances could you forget your manners.” - -Read Russell’s India all day. Saintly folks those English when their -blood is up. Sepoys and blacks we do not expect anything better from, but -what an example of Christian patience and humanity the white “angels” -from the West set them. - -The beautiful Jewess, Rachel Lyons, was here to-day. She flattered Paul -Hayne audaciously, and he threw back the ball. - -To-day I saw the Rowena to this Rebecca, when Mrs. Edward Barnwell -called. She is the purest type of Anglo-Saxon—exquisitely beautiful, -cold, quiet, calm, ladylike, fair as a lily, with the blackest and -longest eyelashes, and her eyes so light in color some one said “they -were the hue of cologne and water.” At any rate, she has a patent right -to them; there are no more like them to be had. The effect is startling, -but lovely beyond words. - -Blanton Duncan told us a story of Morgan in Kentucky. Morgan walked into -a court where they were trying some Secessionists. The Judge was about to -pronounce sentence, but Morgan rose, and begged that he might be allowed -to call some witnesses. The Judge asked who were his witnesses. “My name -is John Morgan, and my witnesses are 1,400 Confederate soldiers.” - -Mrs. Izard witnessed two instances of patriotism in the caste called -“Sandhill tackeys.” One forlorn, chill, and fever-freckled creature, -yellow, dirty, and dry as a nut, was selling peaches at ten cents a -dozen. Soldiers collected around her cart. She took the cover off and -cried, “Eat away. Eat your fill. I never charge our soldiers anything.” -They tried to make her take pay, but when she steadily refused it, they -cheered her madly and said: “Sleep in peace. Now we will fight for you -and keep off the Yankees.” Another poor Sandhill man refused to sell his -cows, and gave them to the hospital. - - - - -XII - -FLAT ROCK, N. C. - -_August 1, 1862-August 8, 1862_ - - -Flat Rock, N. C., _August 1, 1862_.—Being ill I left Mrs. McMahan’s for -Flat Rock[91]. It was very hot and disagreeable for an invalid in a -boarding-house in that climate. The La Bordes and the McCord girls came -part of the way with me. - -The cars were crowded and a lame soldier had to stand, leaning on his -crutches in the thoroughfare that runs between the seats. One of us gave -him our seat. You may depend upon it there was no trouble in finding a -seat for our party after that. Dr. La Borde quoted a classic anecdote. In -some Greek assembly an old man was left standing. A Spartan gave him his -seat. The Athenians cheered madly, though they had kept their seats. The -comment was, “Lacedemonians practise virtue; Athenians know how to admire -it.” - -Nathan Davis happened accidentally to be at the station at Greenville. He -took immediate charge of Molly and myself, for my party had dwindled to -us two. He went with us to the hotel, sent for the landlord, told him who -I was, secured good rooms for us, and saw that we were made comfortable -in every way. At dinner I entered that immense dining-room alone, but -I saw friends and acquaintances on every side. My first exploit was -to repeat to Mrs. Ives Mrs. Pickens’s blunder in taking a suspicious -attitude toward men born at the North, and calling upon General Cooper to -agree with her. Martha Levy explained the grave faces of my auditors by -saying that Colonel Ives was a New Yorker. My distress was dire. - -Louisa Hamilton was there. She told me that Captain George Cuthbert, with -his arm in a sling from a wound by no means healed, was going to risk -the shaking of a stage-coach; he was on his way to his cousin, William -Cuthbert’s, at Flat Rock. Now George Cuthbert is a type of the finest -kind of Southern soldier. We can not make them any better than he is. -Before the war I knew him; he traveled in Europe with my sister, Kate, -and Mary Withers. At once I offered him a seat in the comfortable hack -Nathan Davis had engaged for me. - -Molly sat opposite to me, and often when I was tired held my feet in -her lap. Captain Cuthbert’s man sat with the driver. We had ample room. -We were a dilapidated company. I was so ill I could barely sit up, and -Captain Cuthbert could not use his right hand or arm at all. I had to -draw his match, light his cigar, etc. He was very quiet, grateful, -gentle, and, I was going to say, docile. He is a fiery soldier, one of -those whose whole face becomes transfigured in battle, so one of his men -told me, describing his way with his company. He does not blow his own -trumpet, but I made him tell me the story of his duel with the Mercury’s -reporter. He seemed awfully ashamed of wasting time in such a scrape. - -That night we stopped at a country house half-way toward our journey’s -end. There we met Mr. Charles Lowndes. Rawlins Lowndes, his son, is with -Wade Hampton. - -First we drove, by mistake, into Judge King’s yard, our hackman -mistaking the place for the hotel. Then we made Farmer’s Hotel (as the -seafaring men say). - -Burnet Rhett, with his steed, was at the door; horse and man were -caparisoned with as much red and gold artillery uniform as they -could bear. He held his horse. The stirrups were Mexican, I believe; -they looked like little side-saddles. Seeing his friend and crony, -George Cuthbert, alight and leave a veiled lady in the carriage, this -handsome and undismayed young artillerist walked round and round the -carriage, talked with the driver, looked in at the doors, and at -the front. Suddenly I bethought me to raise my veil and satisfy his -curiosity. Our eyes met, and I smiled. It was impossible to resist the -comic disappointment on his face when a woman old enough to be George -Cuthbert’s mother, with the ravages of a year of gastric fever, almost -fainting with fatigue, greeted his vision. He instantly mounted his -gallant steed and pranced away to his _fiancée_. He is to marry the -greatest heiress in the State, Miss Aiken. Then Captain Cuthbert told me -his name. - -At Kate’s, I found Sally Rutledge, and then for weeks life was a blank; -I remember nothing. The illness which had been creeping on for so long -a time took me by the throat. At Greenville I had met many friends. I -witnessed the wooing of Barny Heyward, once the husband of the lovely -Lucy Izard, now a widower and a _bon parti_. He was there nursing Joe, -his brother. So was the beautiful Henrietta Magruder Heyward, now a -widow, for poor Joe died. There is something magnetic in Tatty Clinch’s -large and lustrous black eyes. No man has ever resisted their influence. -She says her virgin heart has never beat one throb the faster for any -mortal here below—until now, when it surrenders to Barny. Well, as I -said, Joseph Heyward died, and rapidly did the bereaved beauty shake -the dust of this poor Confederacy from her feet and plume her wings for -flight across the water. - -[Let me insert here now, much later, all I know of that brave spirit, -George Cuthbert. While I was living in the winter of 1863 at the corner -of Clay and Twelfth Streets in Richmond, he came to see me. Never did -man enjoy life more. The Preston girls were staying at my house then, -and it was very gay for the young soldiers who ran down from the army -for a day or so. We had heard of him, as usual, gallantly facing odds at -Sharpsburg.[92] And he asked if he should chance to be wounded would I -have him brought to Clay Street. - -He was shot at Chancellorsville,[93] leading his men. The surgeon did -not think him mortally wounded. He sent me a message that “he was coming -at once to our house.” He knew he would soon get well there. Also that -“I need not be alarmed; those Yankees could not kill me.” He asked one -of his friends to write a letter to his mother. Afterward he said he had -another letter to write, but that he wished to sleep first, he felt so -exhausted. At his request they then turned his face away from the light -and left him. When they came again to look at him, they found him dead. -He had been dead for a long time. It was bitter cold; wounded men lost -much blood and were weakened in that way; they lacked warm blankets and -all comforts. Many died who might have been saved by one good hot drink -or a few mouthfuls of nourishing food. - -One of the generals said to me: “Fire and reckless courage like Captain -Cuthbert’s are contagious; such men in an army are invaluable; losses -like this weakened us, indeed.” But I must not linger longer around the -memory of the bravest of the brave—a true exemplar of our old _régime_, -gallant, gay, unfortunate.—M. B. C.] - - * * * * * - -_August 8th._—Mr. Daniel Blake drove down to my sister’s in his heavy, -substantial English phaeton, with stout and strong horses to match. -I went back with him and spent two delightful days at his hospitable -mansion. I met there, as a sort of chaplain, the Rev. Mr. ——. He dealt -unfairly by me. We had a long argument, and when we knelt down for -evening prayers, he introduced an extemporaneous prayer and prayed _for -me_ most palpably. There was I down on my knees, red-hot with rage and -fury. David W. said it was a clear case of hitting a fellow when he was -down. Afterward the fun of it all struck me, and I found it difficult -to keep from shaking with laughter. It was not an edifying religious -exercise, to say the least, as far as I was concerned. - -Before Chancellorsville, was fatal Sharpsburg.[94] My friend, Colonel -Means, killed on the battle-field; his only son, Stark, wounded and a -prisoner. His wife had not recovered from the death of her other child, -Emma, who had died of consumption early in the war. She was lying on a -bed when they told her of her husband’s death, and then they tried to -keep Stark’s condition from her. They think now that she misunderstood -and believed him dead, too. She threw something over her face. She did -not utter one word. She remained quiet so long, some one removed the -light shawl which she had thrown over her head and found she was dead. -Miss Mary Stark, her sister, said afterward, “No wonder! How was she to -face life without her husband and children? That was all she had ever -lived for.” These are sad, unfortunate memories. Let us run away from -them. - -What has not my husband been doing this year, 1862, when all our South -Carolina troops are in Virginia? Here we were without soldiers or arms. -He raised an army, so to speak, and imported arms, through the Trenholm -firm. He had arms to sell to the Confederacy. He laid the foundation of -a niter-bed; and the Confederacy sent to Columbia to learn of Professor -Le Conte how to begin theirs. He bought up all the old arms and had them -altered and repaired. He built ships. He imported clothes and shoes for -our soldiers, for which things they had long stood sorely in need. He -imported cotton cards and set all idle hands carding and weaving. All the -world was set to spinning cotton. He tried to stop the sale of whisky, -and alas, he called for reserves—that is, men over age, and he committed -the unforgivable offense of sending the sacred negro property to work on -fortifications away from their owners’ plantations. - - - - -XIII - -PORTLAND, ALA. - -_July 8, 1863-July 30, 1863_ - - -Portland, Ala., _July 8, 1863_.—My mother ill at her home on the -plantation near here—where I have come to see her. But to go back first -to my trip home from Flat Rock to Camden. At the station, I saw men -sitting on a row of coffins smoking, talking, and laughing, with their -feet drawn up tailor-fashion to keep them out of the wet. Thus does war -harden people’s hearts. - -Met James Chesnut at Wilmington. He only crossed the river with me and -then went back to Richmond. He was violently opposed to sending our -troops into Pennsylvania: wanted all we could spare sent West to make an -end there of our enemies. He kept dark about Vallandigham.[95] I am sure -we could not trust him to do us any good, or to do the Yankees any harm. -The Coriolanus business is played out. - -As we came to Camden, Molly sat by me in the cars. She touched me, and, -with her nose in the air, said: “Look, Missis.” There was the inevitable -bride and groom—at least so I thought—and the irrepressible kissing and -lolling against each other which I had seen so often before. I was rather -astonished at Molly’s prudery, but there was a touch in this scene which -was new. The man required for his peace of mind that the girl should -brush his cheek with those beautiful long eyelashes of hers. Molly became -so outraged in her blue-black modesty that she kept her head out of the -window not to see! When we were detained at a little wayside station, -this woman made an awful row about her room. She seemed to know me and -appealed to me; said her brother-in-law was adjutant to Colonel K——, etc. - -Molly observed, “You had better go yonder, ma’am, where your husband -is calling you.” The woman drew herself up proudly, and, with a toss, -exclaimed: “Husband, indeed! I’m a widow. That is my cousin. I loved my -dear husband too well to marry again, ever, ever!” Absolutely tears came -into her eyes. Molly, loaded as she was with shawls and bundles, stood -motionless, and said: “After all that gwine-on in the kyars! O, Lord, I -should a let it go ’twas my husband and me! nigger as I am.” - -Here I was at home, on a soft bed, with every physical comfort; but life -is one long catechism there, due to the curiosity of stay-at-home people -in a narrow world. - -In Richmond, Molly and Lawrence quarreled. He declared he could not put -up with her tantrums. Unfortunately I asked him, in the interests of -peace and a quiet house, to bear with her temper; I did, said I, but she -was so good and useful. He was shabby enough to tell her what I had said -at their next quarrel. The awful reproaches she overwhelmed me with then! -She said she “was mortified that I had humbled her before Lawrence.” - -But the day of her revenge came. At negro balls in Richmond, guests were -required to carry “passes,” and, in changing his coat Lawrence forgot -his pass. Next day Lawrence was missing, and Molly came to me laughing -to tears. “Come and look,” said she. “Here is the fine gentleman tied -between two black niggers and marched off to jail.” She laughed and -jeered so she could not stand without holding on to the window. Lawrence -disregarded her and called to me at the top of his voice: “Please, -ma’am, ask Mars Jeems to come take me out of this. I ain’t done nothin’.” - -As soon as Mr. Chesnut came home I told him of Lawrence’s sad fall, and -he went at once to his rescue. There had been a fight and a disturbance -at the ball. The police had been called in, and when every negro was -required to show his “pass,” Lawrence had been taken up as having none. -He was terribly chopfallen when he came home walking behind Mr. Chesnut. -He is always so respectable and well-behaved and stands on his dignity. - -I went over to Mrs. Preston’s at Columbia. Camden had become simply -intolerable to me. There the telegram found me, saying I must go to -my mother, who was ill at her home here in Alabama. Colonel Goodwyn, -his wife, and two daughters were going, and so I joined the party. I -telegraphed Mr. Chesnut for Lawrence, and he replied, forbidding me to -go at all; it was so hot, the cars so disagreeable, fever would be the -inevitable result. Miss Kate Hampton, in her soft voice, said: “The only -trouble in life is when one can’t decide in which way duty leads. Once -know your duty, then all is easy.” - -I do not know whether she thought it my duty to obey my husband. But I -thought it my duty to go to my mother, as I risked nothing but myself. - -We had two days of an exciting drama under our very noses, before our -eyes. A party had come to Columbia who said they had run the blockade, -had come in by flag of truce, etc. Colonel Goodwyn asked me to look -around and see if I could pick out the suspected crew. It was easily -done. We were all in a sadly molting condition. We had come to the end of -our good clothes in three years, and now our only resource was to turn -them upside down, or inside out, and in mending, darning, patching, etc. - -Near me on the train to Alabama sat a young woman in a traveling dress -of bright yellow; she wore a profusion of curls, had pink cheeks, -was delightfully airy and easy in her manner, and was absorbed in a -flirtation with a Confederate major, who, in spite of his nice, new gray -uniform and two stars, had a very Yankee face, fresh, clean-cut, sharp, -utterly unsunburned, florid, wholesome, handsome. What more in compliment -can one say of one’s enemies? Two other women faced this man and woman, -and we knew them to be newcomers by their good clothes. One of these -women was a German. She it was who had betrayed them. I found that out -afterward. - -The handsomest of the three women had a hard, Northern face, but all were -in splendid array as to feathers, flowers, lace, and jewelry. If they -were spies why were they so foolish as to brag of New York, and compare -us unfavorably with the other side all the time, and in loud, shrill -accents? Surely that was not the way to pass unnoticed in the Confederacy. - -A man came in, stood up, and read from a paper, “The surrender of -Vicksburg.”[96] I felt as if I had been struck a hard blow on the top -of my head, and my heart took one of its queer turns. I was utterly -unconscious: not long, I dare say. The first thing I heard was -exclamations of joy and exultation from the overdressed party. My rage -and humiliation were great. A man within earshot of this party had slept -through everything. He had a greyhound face, eager and inquisitive when -awake, but now he was as one of the seven sleepers. - -Colonel Goodwyn wrote on a blank page of my book (one of De Quincey’s—the -note is there now), that the sleeper was a Richmond detective. - -Finally, hot and tired out, we arrived at West Point, on the -Chattahoochee River. The dusty cars were quite still, except for the -giggling flirtation of the yellow gown and her major. Two Confederate -officers walked in. I felt mischief in the air. One touched the smart -major, who was whispering to Yellow Gown. The major turned quickly. -Instantly, every drop of blood left his face; a spasm seized his throat; -it was a piteous sight. And at once I was awfully sorry for him. He was -marched out of the car. Poor Yellow Gown’s color was fast, but the whites -of her eyes were lurid. Of the three women spies we never heard again. -They never do anything worse to women, the high-minded Confederates, than -send them out of the country. But when we read soon afterward of the -execution of a male spy, we thought of the “major.” - -At Montgomery the boat waited for us, and in my haste I tumbled out of -the omnibus with Dr. Robert Johnson’s assistance, but nearly broke my -neck. The thermometer was high up in the nineties, and they gave me a -stateroom over the boiler. I paid out my Confederate rags of money freely -to the maid in order to get out of that oven. Surely, go where we may -hereafter, an Alabama steamer in August lying under the bluff with the -sun looking down, will give one a foretaste, almost an adequate idea, of -what’s to come, as far as heat goes. The planks of the floor burned one’s -feet under the bluff at Selma, where we stayed nearly all day—I do not -know why. - -Met James Boykin, who had lost 1,200 bales of cotton at Vicksburg, and -charged it all to Jeff Davis in his wrath, which did not seem exactly -reasonable to me. At Portland there was a horse for James Boykin, and -he rode away, promising to have a carriage sent for me at once. But he -had to go seven miles on horseback before he reached my sister Sally’s, -and then Sally was to send back. On that lonely riverside Molly and I -remained with dismal swamps on every side, and immense plantations, the -white people few or none. In my heart I knew my husband was right when -he forbade me to undertake this journey. - -There was one living thing at this little riverside inn—a white man who -had a store opposite, and oh, how drunk he was! Hot as it was, Molly -kept up a fire of pine knots. There was neither lamp nor candle in that -deserted house. The drunken man reeled over now and then, lantern in -hand; he would stand with his idiotic, drunken glare, or go solemnly -staggering round us, but always bowing in his politeness. He nearly fell -over us, but I sprang out of his way as he asked, “Well, madam, what can -I do for you?” - -Shall I ever forget the headache of that night and the fright? My temples -throbbed with dumb misery. I sat upon a chair, Molly on the floor, with -her head resting against my chair. She was as near as she could get to -me, and I kept my hand on her. “Missis,” said she, “now I do believe you -are scared, scared of that poor, drunken thing. If he was sober I could -whip him in a fair fight, and drunk as he is I kin throw him over the -banister, ef he so much as teches you. I don’t value him a button!” - -Taking heart from such brave words I laughed. It seemed an eternity, but -the carriage came by ten o’clock, and then, with the coachman as our sole -protector, we poor women drove eight miles or more over a carriage road, -through long lanes, swamps of pitchy darkness, with plantations on every -side. - -The house, as we drew near, looked like a graveyard in a nightmare, so -vague and phantom-like were its outlines. - -I found my mother ill in bed, feeble still, but better than I hoped to -see her. “I knew you would come,” was her greeting, with outstretched -hands. Then I went to bed in that silent house, a house of the dead it -seemed. I supposed I was not to see my sister until the next day. But she -came in some time after I had gone to bed. She kissed me quietly, without -a tear. She was thin and pale, but her voice was calm and kind. - -As she lifted the candle over her head, to show me something on the wall, -I saw that her pretty brown hair was white. It was awfully hard not to -burst out into violent weeping. She looked so sweet, and yet so utterly -broken-hearted. But as she was without emotion, apparently, it would not -become me to upset her by my tears. - -Next day, at noon, Hetty, mother’s old maid, brought my breakfast to my -bedside. Such a breakfast it was! Delmonico could do no better. “It is -ever so late, I know,” to which Hetty replied: “Yes, we would not let -Molly wake you.” “What a splendid cook you have here.” “My daughter, -Tenah, is Miss Sally’s cook. She’s well enough as times go, but when our -Miss Mary comes to see us I does it myself,” and she courtesied down to -the floor. “Bless your old soul,” I cried, and she rushed over and gave -me a good hug. - -She is my mother’s factotum; has been her maid since she was six years -old, when she was bought from a Virginia speculator along with her own -mother and all her brothers and sisters. She has been pampered until she -is a rare old tyrant at times. She can do everything better than any one -else, and my mother leans on her heavily. Hetty is Dick’s wife; Dick is -the butler. They have over a dozen children and take life very easily. - -Sally came in before I was out of bed, and began at once in the same -stony way, pale and cold as ice, to tell me of the death of her children. -It had happened not two weeks before. Her eyes were utterly without life; -no expression whatever, and in a composed and sad sort of manner she told -the tale as if it were something she had read and wanted me to hear: - -“My eldest daughter, Mary, had grown up to be a lovely girl. She was -between thirteen and fourteen, you know. Baby Kate had my sister’s gray -eyes; she was evidently to be the beauty of the family. Strange it is -that here was one of my children who has lived and has gone and you have -never seen her at all. She died first, and I would not go to the funeral. -I thought it would kill me to see her put under the ground. I was lying -down, stupid with grief when Aunt Charlotte came to me after the funeral -with this news: ‘Mary has that awful disease, too.’ There was nothing to -say. I got up and dressed instantly and went to Mary. I did not leave her -side again in that long struggle between life and death. I did everything -for her with my own hands. I even prepared my darling for the grave. I -went to her funeral, and I came home and walked straight to my mother and -I begged her to be comforted; I would bear it all without one word if God -would only spare me the one child left me now.” - -Sally has never shed a tear, but has grown twenty years older, cold, -hard, careworn. With the same rigidity of manner, she began to go over -all the details of Mary’s illness. “I had not given up hope, no, not at -all. As I sat by her side, she said: ‘Mamma, put your hand on my knees; -they are so cold.’ I put my hand on her knee; the cold struck to my -heart. I knew it was the coldness of death.” Sally put out her hand on -me, and it seemed to recall the feeling. She fell forward in an agony -of weeping that lasted for hours. The doctor said this reaction was a -blessing; without it she must have died or gone mad. - -While the mother was so bitterly weeping, the little girl, the last -of them, a bright child of three or four, crawled into my bed. “Now, -Auntie,” she whispered, “I want to tell you all about Mamie and Katie, -but they watch me so. They say I must never talk about them. Katie died -because she ate blackberries, I know that, and then Aunt Charlotte read -Mamie a letter and that made her die, too. Maum Hetty says they have gone -to God, but I know the people saved a place between them in the ground -for me.” - -Uncle William was in despair at the low ebb of patriotism out here. “West -of the Savannah River,” said he, “it is property first, life next, honor -last.” He gave me an excellent pair of shoes. What a gift! For more than -a year I have had none but some dreadful things Armstead makes for me, -and they hurt my feet so. These do not fit, but that is nothing; they are -large enough and do not pinch anywhere. I have absolutely a respectable -pair of shoes!! - -Uncle William says the men who went into the war to save their negroes -are abjectly wretched. Neither side now cares a fig for these beloved -negroes, and would send them all to heaven in a hand-basket, as Custis -Lee says, to win in the fight. - -General Lee and Mr. Davis want the negroes put into the army. Mr. Chesnut -and Major Venable discussed the subject one night, but would they fight -on our side or desert to the enemy? They don’t go to the enemy, because -they are comfortable as they are, and expect to be free anyway. - -When we were children our nurses used to give us tea out in the open air -on little pine tables scrubbed as clean as milk-pails. Sometimes, as -Dick would pass us, with his slow and consequential step, we would call -out, “Do, Dick, come and wait on us.” “No, little missies, I never wait -on pine tables. Wait till you get big enough to put your legs under your -pa’s mahogany.” - -I taught him to read as soon as I could read myself, perched on his -knife-board. He won’t look at me now; but looks over my head, scenting -freedom in the air. He was always very ambitious. I do not think he ever -troubled himself much about books. But then, as my father said, Dick, -standing in front of his sideboard, has heard all subjects in earth or -heaven discussed, and by the best heads in our world. He is proud, too, -in his way. Hetty, his wife, complained that the other men servants -looked finer in their livery. “Nonsense, old woman, a butler never -demeans himself to wear livery. He is always in plain clothes.” Somewhere -he had picked that up. - -He is the first negro in whom I have felt a change. Others go about in -their black masks, not a ripple or an emotion showing, and yet on all -other subjects except the war they are the most excitable of all races. -Now Dick might make a very respectable Egyptian Sphinx, so inscrutably -silent is he. He did deign to inquire about General Richard Anderson. “He -was my young master once,” said he. “I always will like him better than -anybody else.” - -When Dick married Hetty, the Anderson house was next door. The two -families agreed to sell either Dick or Hetty, whichever consented to -be sold. Hetty refused outright, and the Andersons sold Dick that he -might be with his wife. This was magnanimous on the Andersons’ part, for -Hetty was only a lady’s-maid and Dick was a trained butler, on whom Mrs. -Anderson had spent no end of pains in his dining-room education, and, of -course, if they had refused to sell Dick, Hetty would have had to go to -them. Mrs. Anderson was very much disgusted with Dick’s ingratitude when -she found he was willing to leave them. As a butler he is a treasure; he -is overwhelmed with dignity, but that does not interfere with his work at -all. - -My father had a body-servant, Simon, who could imitate his master’s voice -perfectly. He would sometimes call out from the yard after my father -had mounted his horse: “Dick, bring me my overcoat. I see you there, -sir, hurry up.” When Dick hastened out, overcoat in hand, and only Simon -was visible, after several obsequious “Yes, marster; just as marster -pleases,” my mother had always to step out and prevent a fight. Dick -never forgave her laughing. - -Once in Sumter, when my father was very busy preparing a law case, the -mob in the street annoyed him, and he grumbled about it as Simon was -making up his fire. Suddenly he heard, as it were, himself speaking, “the -Hon. S. D. Miller—Lawyer Miller,” as the colored gentleman announced -himself in the dark—appeal to the gentlemen outside to go away and -leave a lawyer in peace to prepare his case for the next day. My father -said he could have sworn the sound was that of his own voice. The crowd -dispersed, but some noisy negroes came along, and upon them Simon rushed -with the sulky whip, slashing around in the dark, calling himself “Lawyer -Miller,” who was determined to have peace. - -Simon returned, complaining that “them niggers run so he never got in a -hundred yards of one of them.” - -At Portland, we met a man who said: “Is it not strange that in this -poor, devoted land of ours, there are some men who are making money by -blockade-running, cheating our embarrassed government, and skulking the -fight?” - -_Montgomery, July 30th._—Coming on here from Portland there was no -stateroom for me. My mother alone had one. My aunt and I sat nodding in -armchairs, for the floors and sofas were covered with sleepers, too. -On the floor that night, so hot that even a little covering of clothes -could not be borne, lay a motley crew. Black, white, and yellow disported -themselves in promiscuous array. Children and their nurses, bared to the -view, were wrapped in the profoundest slumber. No caste prejudices were -here. Neither Garrison, John Brown, nor Gerrit Smith ever dreamed of -equality more untrammeled. A crow-black, enormously fat negro man waddled -in every now and then to look after the lamps. The atmosphere of that -cabin was stifling, and the sight of those figures on the floor did not -make it more tolerable. So we soon escaped and sat out near the guards. - -The next day was the very hottest I have ever known. One supreme -consolation was the watermelons, the very finest, and the ice. A very -handsome woman, whom I did not know, rehearsed all our disasters in the -field. And then, as if she held me responsible, she faced me furiously, -“And where are our big men?” “Whom do you mean?” “I mean our leaders, -the men we have a right to look to to save us. They got us into this -scrape. Let them get us out of it. Where are our big men?” I sympathized -with her and understood her, but I answered lightly, “I do not know the -exact size you want them.” - -Here in Montgomery, we have been so hospitably received. Ye gods! how -those women talked! and all at the same time! They put me under the care -of General Dick Taylor’s brother-in-law, a Mr. Gordon, who married one -of the Beranges. A very pleasant arrangement it was for me. He was kind -and attentive and vastly agreeable with his New Orleans anecdotes. On -the first of last January all his servants left him but four. To these -faithful few he gave free papers at once, that they might lose naught by -loyalty should the Confederates come into authority once more. He paid -high wages and things worked smoothly for some weeks. One day his wife -saw some Yankee officers’ cards on a table, and said to her maid, “I did -not know any of these people had called?” - -“Oh, Missis!” the maid replied, “they come to see me, and I have been -waiting to tell you. It is too hard! I can not do it! I can not dance -with those nice gentlemen at night at our Union Balls and then come -here and be your servant the next day. I can’t!” “So,” said Mr. Gordon, -“freedom must be followed by fraternity and equality.” One by one the -faithful few slipped away and the family were left to their own devices. -Why not? - -When General Dick Taylor’s place was sacked his negroes moved down to -Algiers, a village near New Orleans. An old woman came to Mr. Gordon to -say that these negroes wanted him to get word to “Mars Dick” that they -were dying of disease and starvation; thirty had died that day. Dick -Taylor’s help being out of the question, Mr. Gordon applied to a Federal -officer. He found this one not a philanthropist, but a cynic, who said: -“All right; it is working out as I expected. Improve negroes and Indians -off the continent. Their strong men we put in the army. The rest will -disappear.” - -Joe Johnston can sulk. As he is sent West, he says, “They may give Lee -the army Joe Johnston trained.” Lee is reaping where he sowed, he thinks, -but then he was backing straight through Richmond when they stopped his -retreating. - - - - -XIV - -RICHMOND, VA. - -_August 10, 1863-September 7, 1863_ - - -Richmond, Va., _August 10, 1863_.—To-day I had a letter from my sister, -who wrote to inquire about her old playmate, friend, and lover, Boykin -McCaa. It is nearly twenty years since each was married; each now has -children nearly grown. “To tell the truth,” she writes, “in these last -dreadful years, with David in Florida, where I can not often hear from -him, and everything dismal, anxious, and disquieting, I had almost -forgotten Boykin’s existence, but he came here last night; he stood by -my bedside and spoke to me kindly and affectionately, as if we had just -parted. I said, holding out my hand, ‘Boykin, you are very pale.’ He -answered, ‘I have come to tell you good-by,’ and then seized both my -hands. His own hands were as cold and hard as ice; they froze the marrow -of my bones. I screamed again and again until my whole household came -rushing in, and then came the negroes from the yard, all wakened by my -piercing shrieks. This may have been a dream, but it haunts me. - -“Some one sent me an old paper with an account of his wounds and his -recovery, but I know he is dead.” “Stop!” said my husband at this point, -and then he read from that day’s Examiner these words: “Captain Burwell -Boykin McCaa found dead upon the battle-field leading a cavalry charge at -the head of his company. He was shot through the head.” - -The famous colonel of the Fourth Texas, by name John Bell Hood,[97] is -here—him we call Sam, because his classmates at West Point did so—for -what cause is not known. John Darby asked if he might bring his hero to -us; bragged of him extensively; said he had won his three stars, etc., -under Stonewall’s eye, and that he was promoted by Stonewall’s request. -When Hood came with his sad Quixote face, the face of an old Crusader, -who believed in his cause, his cross, and his crown, we were not prepared -for such a man as a beau-ideal of the wild Texans. He is tall, thin, -and shy; has blue eyes and light hair; a tawny beard, and a vast amount -of it, covering the lower part of his face, the whole appearance that -of awkward strength. Some one said that his great reserve of manner he -carried only into the society of ladies. Major Venable added that he had -often heard of the light of battle shining in a man’s eyes. He had seen -it once—when he carried to Hood orders from Lee, and found in the hottest -of the fight that the man was transfigured. The fierce light of Hood’s -eyes I can never forget. - -[Illustration: ANOTHER GROUP OF CONFEDERATE GENERALS. - -WADE HAMPTON. - -ROBERT TOOMBS. - -JOHN C. PRESTON. - -JOHN H. MORGAN. - -JOSEPH B. KERSHAW. - -JAMES CHESNUT, JR.] - -Hood came to ask us to a picnic next day at Drury’s Bluff.[98] The naval -heroes were to receive us and then we were to drive out to the Texan -camp. We accused John Darby of having instigated this unlooked-for -festivity. We were to have bands of music and dances, with turkeys, -chickens, and buffalo tongues to eat. Next morning, just as my foot -was on the carriage-step, the girls standing behind ready to follow me -with Johnny and the Infant Samuel (Captain Shannon by proper name), up -rode John Darby in red-hot haste, threw his bridle to one of the men -who was holding the horses, and came toward us rapidly, clanking his -cavalry spurs with a despairing sound as he cried: “Stop! it’s all up. -We are ordered back to the Rappahannock. The brigade is marching through -Richmond now.” So we unpacked and unloaded, dismissed the hacks and sat -down with a sigh. - -“Suppose we go and see them pass the turnpike,” some one said. The -suggestion was hailed with delight, and off we marched. Johnny and the -Infant were in citizens’ clothes, and the Straggler—as Hood calls John -Darby, since the Prestons have been in Richmond—was all plaided and -plumed in his surgeon’s array. He never bated an inch of bullion or a -feather; he was courting and he stalked ahead with Mary Preston, Buck, -and Johnny. The Infant and myself, both stout and scant of breath, lagged -last. They called back to us, as the Infant came toddling along, “Hurry -up or we will leave you.” - -At the turnpike we stood on the sidewalk and saw ten thousand men march -by. We had seen nothing like this before. Hitherto we had seen only -regiments marching spick and span in their fresh, smart clothes, just -from home and on their way to the army. Such rags and tags as we saw -now. Nothing was like anything else. Most garments and arms were such as -had been taken from the enemy. Such shoes as they had on. “Oh, our brave -boys!” moaned Buck. Such tin pans and pots as were tied to their waists, -with bread or bacon stuck on the ends of their bayonets. Anything that -could be spiked was bayoneted and held aloft. - -They did not seem to mind their shabby condition; they laughed, shouted, -and cheered as they marched by. Not a disrespectful or light word was -spoken, but they went for the men who were huddled behind us, and who -seemed to be trying to make themselves as small as possible in order to -escape observation. - -Hood and his staff finally came galloping up, dismounted, and joined -us. Mary Preston gave him a bouquet. Thereupon he unwrapped a Bible, -which he carried in his pocket. He said his mother had given it to him. -He pressed a flower in it. Mary Preston suggested that he had not worn -or used it at all, being fresh, new, and beautifully kept. Every word -of this the Texans heard as they marched by, almost touching us. They -laughed and joked and made their own rough comments. - -_September 7th._—Major Edward Johnston did not get into the Confederacy -until after the first battle of Manassas. For some cause, before he -could evade that potentate, Seward rang his little bell and sent him to -a prison in the harbor of New York. I forget whether he was exchanged or -escaped of his own motion. The next thing I heard of my antebellum friend -he had defeated Milroy in Western Virginia. There were so many Johnstons -that for this victory they named him Alleghany Johnston. - -He had an odd habit of falling into a state of incessant winking as soon -as he became the least startled or agitated. In such times he seemed -persistently to be winking one eye at you. He meant nothing by it, and -in point of fact did not know himself that he was doing it. In Mexico -he had been wounded in the eye, and the nerve vibrates independently of -his will. During the winter of 1862 and 1863 he was on crutches. After a -while he hobbled down Franklin Street with us, we proud to accommodate -our pace to that of the wounded general. His ankle continued stiff; -so when he sat down another chair had to be put before him. On this -he stretched out his stiff leg, straight as a ramrod. At that time he -was our only wounded knight, and the girls waited on him and made life -pleasant for him. - -One night I listened to two love-tales at once, in a distracted state of -mind between the two. William Porcher Miles, in a perfectly modulated -voice, in cadenced accents and low tones, was narrating the happy end -of his affair. He had been engaged to sweet little Bettie Bierne, and I -gave him my congratulations with all my heart. It was a capital match, -suitable in every way, good for her, and good for him. I was deeply -interested in Mr. Miles’s story, but there was din and discord on the -other hand; old Edward, our pet general, sat diagonally across the room -with one leg straight out like a poker, wrapped in red carpet leggings, -as red as a turkey-cock in the face. His head is strangely shaped, like a -cone or an old-fashioned beehive; or, as Buck said, there are three tiers -of it; it is like a pope’s tiara. - -There he sat, with a loud voice and a thousand winks, making love to -Mary P. I make no excuse for listening. It was impossible not to hear -him. I tried not to lose a word of Mr. Miles’s idyl as the despair of -the veteran was thundered into my other ear. I lent an ear to each -conversationalist. Mary can not altogether control her voice, and her -shrill screams of negation, “No, no, never,” etc., utterly failed to -suppress her wounded lover’s obstreperous asseverations of his undying -affection for her. - -Buck said afterward: “We heard every word of it on our side of the room, -even when Mamie shrieked to him that he was talking too loud. Now, -Mamie,” said we afterward, “do you think it was kind to tell him he was -forty if he was a day?” - -Strange to say, the pet general, Edward, rehabilitated his love in a -day; at least two days after he was heard to say that he was “paying -attentions now to his cousin, John Preston’s second daughter; her name, -Sally, but they called her Buck—Sally Buchanan Campbell Preston, a lovely -girl.” And with her he now drove, rode, and hobbled on his crutches, sent -her his photograph, and in due time cannonaded her, from the same spot -where he had courted Mary, with proposals to marry him. - -Buck was never so decided in her “Nos” as Mary. (“Not so loud, at -least”—thus in amendment, says Buck, who always reads what I have -written, and makes comments of assent or dissent.) So again he began to -thunder in a woman’s ears his tender passion. As they rode down Franklin -Street, Buck says she knows the people on the sidewalk heard snatches of -the conversation, though she rode as rapidly as she could, and she begged -him not to talk so loud. Finally, they dashed up to our door as if they -had been running a race. Unfortunate in love, but fortunate in war, our -general is now winning new laurels with Ewell in the Valley or with the -Army of the Potomac. - -I think I have told how Miles, still “so gently o’er me leaning,” told of -his successful love while General Edward Johnston roared unto anguish and -disappointment over his failures. Mr. Miles spoke of sweet little Bettie -Bierne as if she had been a French girl, just from a convent, kept far -from the haunts of men wholly for him. One would think to hear him that -Bettie had never cast those innocent blue eyes of hers on a man until he -came along. - -Now, since I first knew Miss Bierne in 1857, when Pat Calhoun was to -the fore, she has been followed by a tale of men as long as a Highland -chief’s. Every summer at the Springs, their father appeared in the -ballroom a little before twelve and chased the three beautiful Biernes -home before him in spite of all entreaties, and he was said to frown away -their too numerous admirers at all hours of the day. - -This new engagement was confided to me as a profound secret. Of course, -I did not mention it, even to my own household. Next day little Alston, -Morgan’s adjutant, and George Deas called. As Colonel Deas removed his -gloves, he said: “Oh! the Miles and Bierne sensation—have you heard of -it?” “No, what is the row about?” “They are engaged to be married; that’s -all.” “Who told you?” “Miles himself, as we walked down Franklin Street, -this afternoon.” “And did he not beg you not to mention it, as Bettie did -not wish it spoken of?” “God bless my soul, so he did. And I forgot that -part entirely.” - -Colonel Alston begged the stout Carolinian not to take his inadvertent -breach of faith too much to heart. Miss Bettie’s engagement had caused -him a dreadful night. A young man, who was his intimate friend, came -to his room in the depths of despair and handed him a letter from Miss -Bierne, which was the cause of all his woe. Not knowing that she was -already betrothed to Miles, he had proposed to her in an eloquent letter. -In her reply, she positively stated that she was engaged to Mr. Miles, -and instead of thanking her for putting him at once out of his misery, -he considered the reason she gave as trebly aggravating the agony of the -love-letter and the refusal. “Too late!” he yelled, “by Jingo!” So much -for a secret. - -Miss Bierne and I became fast friends. Our friendship was based on a -mutual admiration for the honorable member from South Carolina. Colonel -and Mrs. Myers and Colonel and Mrs. Chesnut were the only friends of Mr. -Miles who were invited to the wedding. At the church door the sexton -demanded our credentials. No one but those whose names he held in his -hand were allowed to enter. Not twenty people were present—a mere handful -grouped about the altar in that large church. - -We were among the first to arrive. Then came a faint flutter and Mrs. -Parkman (the bride’s sister, swathed in weeds for her young husband, who -had been killed within a year of her marriage) came rapidly up the aisle -alone. She dropped upon her knees in the front pew, and there remained, -motionless, during the whole ceremony, a mass of black crape, and a dead -weight on my heart. She has had experience of war. A cannonade around -Richmond interrupted her marriage service—a sinister omen—and in a year -thereafter her bridegroom was stiff and stark—dead upon the field of -battle. - -While the wedding-march turned our thoughts from her and thrilled us -with sympathy, the bride advanced in white satin and point d’Alençon. -Mrs. Myers whispered that it was Mrs. Parkman’s wedding-dress that the -bride had on. She remembered the exquisite lace, and she shuddered with -superstitious forebodings. - -All had been going on delightfully in-doors, but a sharp shower cleared -the church porch of the curious; and, as the water splashed, we wondered -how we were to assemble ourselves at Mrs. McFarland’s. All the horses in -Richmond had been impressed for some sudden cavalry necessity a few days -before. I ran between Mr. McFarland and Senator Semmes with my pretty -Paris rose-colored silk turned over my head to save it, and when we -arrived at the hospitable mansion of the McFarlands, Mr. McFarland took -me straight into the drawing-room, man-like, forgetting that my ruffled -plumes needed a good smoothing and preening. - -Mrs. Lee sent for me. She was staying at Mrs. Caskie’s. I was taken -directly to her room, where she was lying on the bed. She said, before -I had taken my seat: “You know there is a fight going on now at Brandy -Station?”[99] “Yes, we are anxious. John Chesnut’s company is there, -too.” She spoke sadly, but quietly. “My son, Roony, is wounded; his -brother has gone for him. They will soon be here and we shall know all -about it unless Roony’s wife takes him to her grandfather. Poor lame -mother, I am useless to my children.” Mrs. Caskie said: “You need not be -alarmed. The General said in his telegram that it was not a severe wound. -You know even Yankees believe General Lee.” - -That day, Mrs. Lee gave me a likeness of the General in a photograph -taken soon after the Mexican War. She likes it so much better than the -later ones. He certainly was a handsome man then, handsomer even than -now. I shall prize it for Mrs. Lee’s sake, too. She said old Mrs. Chesnut -and her aunt, Nellie Custis (Mrs. Lewis) were very intimate during -Washington’s Administration in Philadelphia. I told her Mrs. Chesnut, -senior, was the historical member of our family; she had so much to tell -of Revolutionary times. She was one of the “white-robed choir” of little -maidens who scattered flowers before Washington at Trenton Bridge, which -everybody who writes a life of Washington asks her to give an account of. - -Mrs. Ould and Mrs. Davis came home with me. Lawrence had a basket of -delicious cherries. “If there were only some ice,” said I. Respectfully -Lawrence answered, and also firmly: “Give me money and you shall have -ice.” By the underground telegraph he had heard of an ice-house over -the river, though its fame was suppressed by certain Sybarites, as -they wanted it all. In a wonderfully short time we had mint-juleps and -sherry-cobblers. - -Altogether it has been a pleasant day, and as I sat alone I was laughing -lightly now and then at the memory of some funny story. Suddenly, a -violent ring; and a regular sheaf of telegrams were handed me. I could -not have drawn away in more consternation if the sheets had been a nest -of rattlesnakes. First, Frank Hampton was killed at Brandy Station. -Wade Hampton telegraphed Mr. Chesnut to see Robert Barnwell, and make -the necessary arrangements to recover the body. Mr. Chesnut is still at -Wilmington. I sent for Preston Johnston, and my neighbor, Colonel Patton, -offered to see that everything proper was done. That afternoon I walked -out alone. Willie Mountford had shown me where the body, all that was -left of Frank Hampton, was to be laid in the Capitol. Mrs. Petticola -joined me after a while, and then Mrs. Singleton. - -Preston Hampton and Peter Trezevant, with myself and Mrs. Singleton, -formed the sad procession which followed the coffin. There was a company -of soldiers drawn up in front of the State House porch. Mrs. Singleton -said we had better go in and look at him before the coffin was finally -closed. How I wish I had not looked. I remember him so well in all the -pride of his magnificent manhood. He died of a saber-cut across the face -and head, and was utterly disfigured. Mrs. Singleton seemed convulsed -with grief. In all my life I had never seen such bitter weeping. She had -her own troubles, but I did not know of them. We sat for a long time on -the great steps of the State House. Everybody had gone and we were alone. - -We talked of it all—how we had gone to Charleston to see Rachel in -Adrienne Lecouvreur, and how, as I stood waiting in the passage near the -drawing-room, I had met Frank Hampton bringing his beautiful bride from -the steamer. They had just landed. Afterward at Mrs. Singleton’s place in -the country we had all spent a delightful week together. And now, only a -few years have passed, but nearly all that pleasant company are dead, and -our world, the only world we cared for, literally kicked to pieces. And -she cried, “We are two lone women, stranded here.” Rev. Robert Barnwell -was in a desperate condition, and Mary Barnwell, her daughter, was -expecting her confinement every day. - -Here now, later, let me add that it was not until I got back to Carolina -that I heard of Robert Barnwell’s death, with scarcely a day’s interval -between it and that of Mary and her new-born baby. Husband, wife, and -child were buried at the same time in the same grave in Columbia. And -now, Mrs. Singleton has three orphan grandchildren. What a woful year it -has been to her. - -Robert Barnwell had insisted upon being sent to the hospital at Staunton. -On account of his wife’s situation the doctor also had advised it. He -was carried off on a mattress. His brave wife tried to prevent it, and -said: “It is only fever.” And she nursed him to the last. She tried to -say good-by cheerfully, and called after him: “As soon as my trouble -is over I will come to you at Staunton.” At the hospital they said it -was typhoid fever. He died the second day after he got there. Poor Mary -fainted when she heard the ambulance drive away with him. Then she crept -into a low trundle-bed kept for the children in her mother’s room. She -never left that bed again. When the message came from Staunton that fever -was the matter with Robert and nothing more, Mrs. Singleton says she -will never forget the expression in Mary’s eyes as she turned and looked -at her. “Robert will get well,” she said, “it is all right.” Her face -was radiant, blazing with light. That night the baby was born, and Mrs. -Singleton got a telegram that Robert was dead. She did not tell Mary, -standing, as she did, at the window while she read it. She was at the -same time looking for Robert’s body, which might come any moment. As for -Mary’s life being in danger, she had never thought of such a thing. She -was thinking only of Robert. Then a servant touched her and said: “Look -at Mrs. Barnwell.” She ran to the bedside, and the doctor, who had come -in, said, “It is all over; she is dead.” Not in anger, not in wrath, came -the angel of death that day. He came to set Mary free from a world grown -too hard to bear. - - * * * * * - -During Stoneman’s raid[100] I burned some personal papers. Molly -constantly said to me, “Missis, listen to de guns. Burn up everything. -Mrs. Lyons says they are sure to come, and they’ll put in their -newspapers whatever you write here, every day.” The guns did sound very -near, and when Mrs. Davis rode up and told me that if Mr. Davis left -Richmond I must go with her, I confess I lost my head. So I burned a part -of my journal but rewrote it afterward from memory—my implacable enemy -that lets me forget none of the things I would. I am weak with dates. I -do not always worry to look at the calendar and write them down. Besides -I have not always a calendar at hand. - - - - -XV - -CAMDEN, S. C. - -_September 10, 1863-November 5, 1863_ - - -Camden, S. C., _September 10, 1863_.—It is a comfort to turn from small -political jealousies to our grand battles—to Lee and Kirby Smith after -Council and Convention squabbles. Lee has proved to be all that my -husband prophesied of him when he was so unpopular and when Joe Johnston -was the great god of war. The very sound of the word convention or -council is wearisome. Not that I am quite ready for Richmond yet. We must -look after home and plantation affairs, which we have sadly neglected. -Heaven help my husband through the deep waters. - -The wedding of Miss Aiken, daughter of Governor Aiken, the largest -slave-owner in South Carolina; Julia Rutledge, one of the bridesmaids; -the place Flat Rock. We could not for a while imagine what Julia would -do for a dress. My sister Kate remembered some muslin she had in the -house for curtains, bought before the war, and laid aside as not needed -now. The stuff was white and thin, a little coarse, but then we covered -it with no end of beautiful lace. It made a charming dress, and how -altogether lovely Julia looked in it! The night of the wedding it stormed -as if the world were coming to an end—wind, rain, thunder, and lightning -in an unlimited supply around the mountain cottage. - -The bride had a _duchesse_ dressing-table, muslin and lace; not one of -the shifts of honest, war-driven poverty, but a millionaire’s attempt -at appearing economical, in the idea that that style was in better taste -as placing the family more on the same plane with their less comfortable -compatriots. A candle was left too near this light drapery and it took -fire. Outside was lightning enough to fire the world; inside, the bridal -chamber was ablaze, and there was wind enough to blow the house down the -mountainside. - -The English maid behaved heroically, and, with the aid of Mrs. Aiken’s -and Mrs. Mat Singleton’s servants, put the fire out without disturbing -the marriage ceremony, then being performed below. Everything in the -bridal chamber was burned up except the bed, and that was a mass of -cinders, soot, and flakes of charred and blackened wood. - -At Kingsville I caught a glimpse of our army. Longstreet’s corps was -going West. God bless the gallant fellows! Not one man was intoxicated; -not one rude word did I hear. It was a strange sight—one part of it. -There were miles, apparently, of platform cars, soldiers rolled in their -blankets, lying in rows, heads all covered, fast asleep. In their gray -blankets, packed in regular order, they looked like swathed mummies. One -man near where I sat was writing on his knee. He used his cap for a desk -and he was seated on a rail. I watched him, wondering to whom that letter -was to go—home, no doubt. Sore hearts for him there. - -A feeling of awful depression laid hold of me. All these fine fellows -were going to kill or be killed. Why? And a phrase got to beating about -my head like an old song, “The Unreturning Brave.” When a knot of boyish, -laughing, young creatures passed me, a queer thrill of sympathy shook me. -Ah, I know how your home-folks feel, poor children! Once, last winter, -persons came to us in Camden with such strange stories of Captain ——, -Morgan’s man; stories of his father, too; turf tales and murder, or, at -least, how he killed people. He had been a tremendous favorite with my -husband, who brought him in once, leading him by the hand. Afterward he -said to me, “With these girls in the house we must be more cautious.” I -agreed to be coldly polite to ——. “After all,” I said, “I barely know -him.” - -When he called afterward in Richmond I was very glad to see him, utterly -forgetting that he was under a ban. We had a long, confidential talk. He -told me of his wife and children; of his army career, and told Morgan -stories. He grew more and more cordial and so did I. He thanked me for -the kind reception given him in that house; told me I was a true friend -of his, and related to me a scrape he was in which, if divulged, would -ruin him, although he was innocent; but time would clear all things. He -begged me not to repeat anything he had told me of his affairs, not even -to Colonel Chesnut; which I promised promptly, and then he went away. -I sat poking the fire thinking what a curiously interesting creature -he was, this famous Captain ——, when the folding-doors slowly opened -and Colonel Chesnut appeared. He had come home two hours ago from the -War Office with a headache, and had been lying on the sofa behind that -folding-door listening for mortal hours. - -“So, this is your style of being ‘coldly polite,’” he said. Fancy my -feelings. “Indeed, I had forgotten all about what they had said of him. -The lies they told of him never once crossed my mind. He is a great deal -cleverer, and, I dare say, just as good as those who malign him.” - -Mattie Reedy (I knew her as a handsome girl in Washington several years -ago) got tired of hearing Federals abusing John Morgan. One day they were -worse than ever in their abuse and she grew restive. By way of putting a -mark against the name of so rude a girl, the Yankee officer said, “What -is your name?” “Write ‘Mattie Reedy’ now, but by the grace of God one day -I hope to call myself the wife of John Morgan.” She did not know Morgan, -but Morgan eventually heard the story; a good joke it was said to be. -But he made it a point to find her out; and, as she was as pretty as she -was patriotic, by the grace of God, she is now Mrs. Morgan! These timid -Southern women under the guns can be brave enough. - -Aunt Charlotte has told a story of my dear mother. They were up at -Shelby, Ala., a white man’s country, where negroes are not wanted. The -ladies had with them several negroes belonging to my uncle at whose house -they were staying in the owner’s absence. One negro man who had married -and dwelt in a cabin was for some cause particularly obnoxious to the -neighborhood. My aunt and my mother, old-fashioned ladies, shrinking -from everything outside their own door, knew nothing of all this. They -occupied rooms on opposite sides of an open passageway. Underneath, the -house was open and unfinished. Suddenly, one night, my aunt heard a -terrible noise—apparently as of a man running for his life, pursued by -men and dogs, shouting, hallooing, barking. She had only time to lock -herself in. Utterly cut off from her sister, she sat down, dumb with -terror, when there began loud knocking at the door, with men swearing, -dogs tearing round, sniffing, racing in and out of the passage and -barking underneath the house like mad. Aunt Charlotte was sure she heard -the panting of a negro as he ran into the house a few minutes before. -What could have become of him? Where could he have hidden? The men shook -the doors and windows, loudly threatening vengeance. My aunt pitied her -feeble sister, cut off in the room across the passage. This fright might -kill her! - -The cursing and shouting continued unabated. A man’s voice, in harshest -accents, made itself heard above all: “Leave my house, you rascals!” -said the voice. “If you are not gone in two seconds, I’ll shoot!” There -was a dead silence except for the noise of the dogs. Quickly the men -slipped away. Once out of gunshot, they began to call their dogs. After -it was all over my aunt crept across the passage. “Sister, what man was -it scared them away?” My mother laughed aloud in her triumph. “I am the -man,” she said. - -“But where is John?” Out crept John from a corner of the room, where -my mother had thrown some rubbish over him. “Lawd bless you, Miss Mary -opened de do’ for me and dey was right behind runnin’ me—” Aunt says -mother was awfully proud of her prowess. And she showed some moral -courage, too! - -At the President’s in Richmond once, General Lee was there, and Constance -and Hetty Cary came in; also Miss Sanders and others. Constance Cary[101] -was telling some war anecdotes, among them one of an attempt to get up -a supper the night before at some high and mighty F. F. V.’s house, and -of how several gentlefolks went into the kitchen to prepare something -to eat by the light of one forlorn candle. One of the men in the party, -not being of a useful temperament, turned up a tub and sat down upon it. -Custis Lee, wishing also to rest, found nothing upon which to sit but a -gridiron. - -One remembrance I kept of the evening at the President’s: General Lee -bowing over the beautiful Miss Cary’s hands in the passage outside. Miss -—— rose to have her part in the picture, and asked Mr. Davis to walk -with her into the adjoining drawing-room. He seemed surprised, but rose -stiffly, and, with a scowling brow, was led off. As they passed where -Mrs. Davis sat, Miss ——, with all sail set, looked back and said: “Don’t -be jealous, Mrs. Davis; I have an important communication to make to the -President.” Mrs. Davis’s amusement resulted in a significant “Now! Did -you ever?” - -During Stoneman’s raid, on a Sunday I was in Mrs. Randolph’s pew. The -battle of Chancellorsville was also raging. The rattling of ammunition -wagons, the tramp of soldiers, the everlasting slamming of those iron -gates of the Capitol Square just opposite the church, made it hard to -attend to the service. - -Then began a scene calculated to make the stoutest heart quail. The -sexton would walk quietly up the aisle to deliver messages to worshipers -whose relatives had been brought in wounded, dying, or dead. Pale-faced -people would then follow him out. Finally, the Rev. Mr. Minnegerode bent -across the chancel-rail to the sexton for a few minutes, whispered with -the sexton, and then disappeared. The assistant clergyman resumed the -communion which Mr. Minnegerode had been administering. At the church -door stood Mrs. Minnegerode, as tragically wretched and as wild-looking -as ever Mrs. Siddons was. She managed to say to her husband, “Your son is -at the station, dead!” When these agonized parents reached the station, -however, it proved to be some one else’s son who was dead—but a son all -the same. Pale and wan came Mr. Minnegerode back to his place within the -altar rails. After the sacred communion was over, some one asked him what -it all meant, and he said: “Oh, it was not my son who was killed, but it -came so near it aches me yet!” - -At home I found L. Q. Washington, who stayed to dinner. I saw that he and -my husband were intently preoccupied by some event which they did not see -fit to communicate to me. Immediately after dinner my husband lent Mr. -Washington one of his horses and they rode off together. I betook myself -to my kind neighbors, the Pattons, for information. There I found Colonel -Patton had gone, too. Mrs. Patton, however, knew all about the trouble. -She said there was a raiding party within forty miles of us and no troops -were in Richmond! They asked me to stay to tea—those kind ladies—and in -some way we might learn what was going on. After tea we went out to the -Capitol Square, Lawrence and three men-servants going along to protect -us. They seemed to be mustering in citizens by the thousands. Company -after company was being formed; then battalions, and then regiments. It -was a wonderful sight to us, peering through the iron railing, watching -them fall into ranks. - -Then we went to the President’s, finding the family at supper. We sat -on the white marble steps, and General Elzey told me exactly how things -stood and of our immediate danger. Pickets were coming in. Men were -spurring to and from the door as fast as they could ride, bringing and -carrying messages and orders. Calmly General Elzey discoursed upon our -present weakness and our chances for aid. After a while Mrs. Davis came -out and embraced me silently. - -“It is dreadful,” I said. “The enemy is within forty miles of us—only -forty!” “Who told you that tale?” said she. “They are within three miles -of Richmond!” I went down on my knees like a stone. “You had better be -quiet,” she said. “The President is ill. Women and children must not add -to the trouble.” She asked me to stay all night, which I was thankful to -do. - -We sat up. Officers were coming and going; and we gave them what -refreshment we could from a side table, kept constantly replenished. -Finally, in the excitement, the constant state of activity and change of -persons, we forgot the danger. Officers told us jolly stories and seemed -in fine spirits, so we gradually took heart. There was not a moment’s -rest for any one. Mrs. Davis said something more amusing than ever: “We -look like frightened women and children, don’t we?” - -Early next morning the President came down. He was still feeble and pale -from illness. Custis Lee and my husband loaded their pistols, and the -President drove off in Dr. Garnett’s carriage, my husband and Custis Lee -on horseback alongside him. By eight o’clock the troops from Petersburg -came in, and the danger was over. The authorities will never strip -Richmond of troops again. We had a narrow squeeze for it, but we escaped. -It was a terrible night, although we made the best of it. - -I was walking on Franklin Street when I met my husband. “Come with me to -the War Office for a few minutes,” said he, “and then I will go home with -you.” What could I do but go? He took me up a dark stairway, and then -down a long, dark corridor, and he left me sitting in a window, saying he -“would not be gone a second”; he was obliged to go into the Secretary of -War’s room. There I sat mortal hours. Men came to light the gas. From the -first I put down my veil so that nobody might know me. Numbers of persons -passed that I knew, but I scarcely felt respectable seated up there in -that odd way, so I said not a word but looked out of the window. Judge -Campbell slowly walked up and down with his hands behind his back—the -saddest face I ever saw. He had jumped down in his patriotism from Judge -of the Supreme Court, U. S. A., to be under-secretary of something or -other—I do not know what—C. S. A. No wonder he was out of spirits that -night! - -Finally Judge Ould came; him I called, and he joined me at once, in no -little amazement to find me there, and stayed with me until James Chesnut -appeared. In point of fact, I sent him to look up that stray member of my -family. - -When my husband came he said: “Oh, Mr. Seddon and I got into an argument, -and time slipped away! The truth is, I utterly forgot you were here.” -When we were once more out in the street, he began: “Now, don’t scold -me, for there is bad news. Pemberton has been fighting the Yankees by -brigades, and he has been beaten every time; and now Vicksburg must go!” -I suppose that was his side of the argument with Seddon. - -Once again I visited the War Office. I went with Mrs. Ould to see her -husband at his office. We wanted to arrange a party on the river on the -flag-of-truce boat, and to visit those beautiful places, Claremont and -Brandon. My husband got into one of his “too careful” fits; said there -was risk in it; and so he upset all our plans. Then I was to go up to -John Rutherford’s by the canal-boat. That, too, he vetoed “too risky,” as -if anybody was going to trouble us! - -_October 24th._—James Chesnut is at home on his way back to Richmond; had -been sent by the President to make the rounds of the Western armies; says -Polk is a splendid old fellow. They accuse him of having been asleep in -his tent at seven o’clock when he was ordered to attack at daylight, but -he has too good a conscience to sleep so soundly. - -The battle did not begin until eleven at Chickamauga[102] when Bragg had -ordered the advance at daylight. Bragg and his generals do not agree. I -think a general worthless whose subalterns quarrel with him. Something -is wrong about the man. Good generals are adored by their soldiers. See -Napoleon, Cæsar, Stonewall, Lee. - -Old Sam (Hood) received his orders to hold a certain bridge against the -enemy, and he had already driven the enemy several miles beyond it, when -the slow generals were still asleep. Hood has won a victory, though he -has only one leg to stand on. - -Mr. Chesnut was with the President when he reviewed our army under the -enemy’s guns before Chattanooga. He told Mr. Davis that every honest man -he saw out West thought well of Joe Johnston. He knows that the President -detests Joe Johnston for all the trouble he has given him, and General -Joe returns the compliment with compound interest. His hatred of Jeff -Davis amounts to a religion. With him it colors all things. - -Joe Johnston advancing, or retreating, I may say with more truth, is -magnetic. He does draw the good-will of those by whom he is surrounded. -Being such a good hater, it is a pity he had not elected to hate somebody -else than the President of our country. He hates not wisely but too well. -Our friend Breckinridge[103] received Mr. Chesnut with open arms. There -is nothing narrow, nothing self-seeking, about Breckinridge. He has not -mounted a pair of green spectacles made of prejudices so that he sees no -good except in his own red-hot partizans. - -_October 27th._—Young Wade Hampton has been here for a few days, a guest -of our nearest neighbor and cousin, Phil Stockton. Wade, without being -the beauty or the athlete that his brother Preston is, is such a nice -boy. We lent him horses, and ended by giving him a small party. What -was lacking in company was made up for by the excellence of old Colonel -Chesnut’s ancient Madeira and champagne. If everything in the Confederacy -were only as truly good as the old Colonel’s wine-cellars! Then we had a -salad and a jelly cake. - -General Joe Johnston is so careful of his aides that Wade has never yet -seen a battle. Says he has always happened to be sent afar off when the -fighting came. He does not seem too grateful for this, and means to be -transferred to his father’s command. He says, “No man exposes himself -more recklessly to danger than General Johnston, and no one strives -harder to keep others out of it.” But the business of this war is to save -the country, and a commander must risk his men’s lives to do it. There is -a French saying that you can’t make an omelet unless you are willing to -break eggs. - -_November 5th._—For a week we have had such a tranquil, happy time here. -Both my husband and Johnny are here still. James Chesnut spent his time -sauntering around with his father, or stretched on the rug before my fire -reading Vanity Fair and Pendennis. By good luck he had not read them -before. We have kept Esmond for the last. He owns that he is having a -good time. Johnny is happy, too. He does not care for books. He will read -a novel now and then, if the girls continue to talk of it before him. -Nothing else whatever in the way of literature does he touch. He comes -pulling his long blond mustache irresolutely as if he hoped to be advised -not to read it—“Aunt Mary, shall I like this thing?” I do not think he -has an idea what we are fighting about, and he does not want to know. He -says, “My company,” “My men,” with a pride, a faith, and an affection -which are sublime. He came into his inheritance at twenty-one (just as -the war began), and it was a goodly one, fine old houses and an estate to -match. - -Yesterday, Johnny went to his plantation for the first time since the war -began. John Witherspoon went with him, and reports in this way: “How do -you do, Marster! How you come on?”—thus from every side rang the noisiest -welcome from the darkies. Johnny was silently shaking black hands right -and left as he rode into the crowd. - -As the noise subsided, to the overseer he said: “Send down more corn and -fodder for my horses.” And to the driver, “Have you any peas?” “Plenty, -sir.” “Send a wagon-load down for the cows at Bloomsbury while I stay -there. They have not milk and butter enough there for me. Any eggs? Send -down all you can collect. How about my turkeys and ducks? Send them down -two at a time. How about the mutton? Fat? That’s good; send down two a -week.” - -As they rode home, John Witherspoon remarked, “I was surprised that you -did not go into the fields to see your crops.” “What was the use?” “And -the negroes; you had so little talk with them.” - -“No use to talk to them before the overseer. They are coming down to -Bloomsbury, day and night, by platoons and they talk me dead. Besides, -William and Parish go up there every night, and God knows they tell me -enough plantation scandal—overseer feathering his nest; negroes ditto at -my expense. Between the two fires I mean to get something to eat while I -am here.” - -For him we got up a charming picnic at Mulberry. Everything was -propitious—the most perfect of days and the old place in great beauty. -Those large rooms were delightful for dancing; we had as good a dinner as -mortal appetite could crave; the best fish, fowl, and game; wine from a -cellar that can not be excelled. In spite of blockade Mulberry does the -honors nobly yet. Mrs. Edward Stockton drove down with me. She helped me -with her taste and tact in arranging things. We had no trouble, however. -All of the old servants who have not been moved to Bloomsbury scented the -prey from afar, and they literally flocked in and made themselves useful. - - - - -XVI - -RICHMOND, VA. - -_November 28, 1863-April 11, 1864_ - - -Richmond, Va., _November 28, 1863_.—Our pleasant home sojourn was soon -broken up. Johnny had to go back to Company A, and my husband was ordered -by the President to make a second visit to Bragg’s Army[104]. - -So we came on here where the Prestons had taken apartments for me. Molly -was with me. Adam Team, the overseer, with Isaac McLaughlin’s help, came -with us to take charge of the eight huge boxes of provisions I brought -from home. Isaac, Molly’s husband, is a servant of ours, the only one my -husband ever bought in his life. Isaac’s wife belonged to Rev. Thomas -Davis, and Isaac to somebody else. The owner of Isaac was about to go -West, and Isaac was distracted. They asked one thousand dollars for -him. He is a huge creature, really a magnificent specimen of a colored -gentleman. His occupation had been that of a stage-driver. Now, he is a -carpenter, or will be some day. He is awfully grateful to us for buying -him; is really devoted to his wife and children, though he has a strange -way of showing it, for he has a mistress, _en titre_, as the French say, -which fact Molly never failed to grumble about as soon as his back was -turned. “Great big good-for-nothing thing come a-whimpering to marster to -buy him for his wife’s sake, and all the time he an—” “Oh, Molly, stop -that!” said I. - -Mr. Davis visited Charleston and had an enthusiastic reception. He -described it all to General Preston. Governor Aiken’s perfect old -Carolina style of living delighted him. Those old gray-haired darkies and -their noiseless, automatic service, the result of finished training—one -does miss that sort of thing when away from home, where your own servants -think for you; they know your ways and your wants; they save you all -responsibility even in matters of your own ease and well doing. The -butler at Mulberry would be miserable and feel himself a ridiculous -failure were I ever forced to ask him for anything. - -_November 30th._—I must describe an adventure I had in Kingsville. Of -course, I know nothing of children: in point of fact, am awfully afraid -of them. - -Mrs. Edward Barnwell came with us from Camden. She had a magnificent boy -two years old. Now don’t expect me to reduce that adjective, for this -little creature is a wonder of childlike beauty, health, and strength. -Why not? If like produces like, and with such a handsome pair to claim as -father and mother! The boy’s eyes alone would make any girl’s fortune. - -At first he made himself very agreeable, repeating nursery rhymes and -singing. Then something went wrong. Suddenly he changed to a little -fiend, fought and kicked and scratched like a tiger. He did everything -that was naughty, and he did it with a will as if he liked it, while his -lovely mamma, with flushed cheeks and streaming eyes, was imploring him -to be a good boy. - -When we stopped at Kingsville, I got out first, then Mrs. Barnwell’s -nurse, who put the little man down by me. “Look after him a moment, -please, ma’am,” she said. “I must help Mrs. Barnwell with the bundles,” -etc. She stepped hastily back and the cars moved off. They ran down a -half mile to turn. I trembled in my shoes. This child! No man could -ever frighten me so. If he should choose to be bad again! It seemed an -eternity while I waited for that train to turn and come back again. My -little charge took things quietly. For me he had a perfect contempt, no -fear whatever. And I was his abject slave for the nonce. - -He stretched himself out lazily at full length. Then he pointed -downward. “Those are great legs,” said he solemnly, looking at his own. -I immediately joined him in admiring them enthusiastically. Near him he -spied a bundle. “Pussy cat tied up in that bundle.” He was up in a second -and pounced upon it. If we were to be taken up as thieves, no matter, I -dared not meddle with that child. I had seen what he could do. There were -several cooked sweet potatoes tied up in an old handkerchief—belonging -to some negro probably. He squared himself off comfortably, broke one in -half and began to eat. Evidently he had found what he was fond of. In -this posture Mrs. Barnwell discovered us. She came with comic dismay in -every feature, not knowing what our relations might be, and whether or -not we had undertaken to fight it out alone as best we might. The old -nurse cried, “Lawsy me!” with both hands uplifted. Without a word I fled. -In another moment the Wilmington train would have left me. She was going -to Columbia. - -We broke down only once between Kingsville and Wilmington, but between -Wilmington and Weldon we contrived to do the thing so effectually as to -have to remain twelve hours at that forlorn station. - -The one room that I saw was crowded with soldiers. Adam Team succeeded -in securing two chairs for me, upon one of which I sat and put my feet -on the other. Molly sat flat on the floor, resting her head against my -chair. I woke cold and cramped. An officer, who did not give his name, -but said he was from Louisiana, came up and urged me to go near the fire. -He gave me his seat by the fire, where I found an old lady and two young -ones, with two men in the uniform of common soldiers. - -We talked as easily to each other all night as if we had known one -another all our lives. We discussed the war, the army, the news of the -day. No questions were asked, no names given, no personal discourse -whatever, and yet if these men and women were not gentry, and of the best -sort, I do not know ladies and gentlemen when I see them. - -Being a little surprised at the want of interest Mr. Team and Isaac -showed in my well-doing, I walked out to see, and I found them working -like beavers. They had been at it all night. In the break-down my boxes -were smashed. They had first gathered up the contents and were trying to -hammer up the boxes so as to make them once more available. - -At Petersburg a smartly dressed woman came in, looked around in the -crowd, then asked for the seat by me. Now Molly’s seat was paid for the -same as mine, but she got up at once, gave the lady her seat and stood -behind me. I am sure Molly believes herself my body-guard as well as my -servant. - -The lady then having arranged herself comfortably in Molly’s seat began -in plaintive accents to tell her melancholy tale. She was a widow. She -lost her husband in the battles around Richmond. Soon some one went out -and a man offered her the vacant seat. Straight as an arrow she went in -for a flirtation with the polite gentleman. Another person, a perfect -stranger, said to me, “Well, look yonder. As soon as she began whining -about her dead beau I knew she was after another one.” “Beau, indeed!” -cried another listener, “she said it was her husband.” “Husband or lover, -all the same. She won’t lose any time. It won’t be her fault if she -doesn’t have another one soon.” - -But the grand scene was the night before: the cars crowded with soldiers, -of course; not a human being that I knew. An Irish woman, so announced by -her brogue, came in. She marched up and down the car, loudly lamenting -the want of gallantry in the men who would not make way for her. Two men -got up and gave her their seats, saying it did not matter, they were -going to get out at the next stopping-place. - -She was gifted with the most pronounced brogue I ever heard, and she gave -us a taste of it. She continued to say that the men ought all to get out -of that; that car was “shuteable” only for ladies. She placed on the -vacant seat next to her a large looking-glass. She continued to harangue -until she fell asleep. - -A tired soldier coming in, seeing what he supposed to be an empty seat, -quietly slipped into it. Crash went the glass. The soldier groaned, the -Irish woman shrieked. The man was badly cut by the broken glass. She was -simply a mad woman. She shook her fist in his face; said she was a lone -woman and he had got into that seat for no good purpose. How did he dare -to?—etc. I do not think the man uttered a word. The conductor took him -into another car to have the pieces of glass picked out of his clothes, -and she continued to rave. Mr. Team shouted aloud, and laughed as if he -were in the Hermitage Swamp. The woman’s unreasonable wrath and absurd -accusations were comic, no doubt. - -Soon the car was silent and I fell into a comfortable doze. I felt Molly -give me a gentle shake. “Listen, Missis, how loud Mars Adam Team is -talking, and all about ole marster and our business, and to strangers. -It’s a shame.” “Is he saying any harm of us?” “No, ma’am, not that. He -is bragging for dear life ’bout how ole ole marster is and how rich he -is, an’ all that. I gwine tell him stop.” Up started Molly. “Mars Adam, -Missis say please don’t talk so loud. When people travel they don’t do -that a way.” - -Mr. Preston’s man, Hal, was waiting at the depot with a carriage to take -me to my Richmond house. Mary Preston had rented these apartments for me. - -I found my dear girls there with a nice fire. Everything looked so -pleasant and inviting to the weary traveler. Mrs. Grundy, who occupies -the lower floor, sent me such a real Virginia tea, hot cakes, and rolls. -Think of living in the house with Mrs. Grundy, and having no fear of -“what Mrs. Grundy will say.” - -My husband has come; he likes the house, Grundy’s, and everything. -Already he has bought Grundy’s horses for sixteen hundred Confederate -dollars cash. He is nearer to being contented and happy than I ever saw -him. He has not established a grievance yet, but I am on the lookout -daily. He will soon find out whatever there is wrong about Cary Street. - -I gave a party; Mrs. Davis very witty; Preston girls very handsome; -Isabella’s fun fast and furious. No party could have gone off more -successfully, but my husband decides we are to have no more festivities. -This is not the time or the place for such gaieties. - -Maria Freeland is perfectly delightful on the subject of her wedding. -She is ready to the last piece of lace, but her hard-hearted father says -“No.” She adores John Lewis. That goes without saying. She does not -pretend, however, to be as much in love as Mary Preston. In point of -fact, she never saw any one before who was. But she is as much in love -as she can be with a man who, though he is not _very_ handsome, is as -eligible a match as a girl could make. He is all that heart could wish, -and he comes of such a handsome family. His mother, Esther Maria Coxe, -was the beauty of a century, and his father was a nephew of General -Washington. For all that, he is far better looking than John Darby or Mr. -Miles. She always intended to marry better than Mary Preston or Bettie -Bierne. - -Lucy Haxall is positively engaged to Captain Coffey, an Englishman. She -is convinced that she will marry him. He is her first fancy. - -Mr. Venable, of Lee’s staff, was at our party, so out of spirits. He -knows everything that is going on. His depression bodes us no good. -To-day, General Hampton sent James Chesnut a fine saddle that he had -captured from the Yankees in battle array. - -Mrs. Scotch Allan (Edgar Allan Poe’s patron’s wife) sent me ice-cream and -lady-cheek apples from her farm. John R. Thompson[105], the sole literary -fellow I know in Richmond, sent me Leisure Hours in Town, by A Country -Parson. - -My husband says he hopes I will be contented because he came here this -winter to please me. If I could have been satisfied at home he would -have resigned his aide-de-camp-ship and gone into some service in South -Carolina. I am a good excuse, if good for nothing else. - -Old tempestuous Keitt breakfasted with us yesterday. I wish I could -remember half the brilliant things he said. My husband has now gone with -him to the War Office. Colonel Keitt thinks it is time he was promoted. -He wants to be a brigadier. - -Now, Charleston is bombarded night and day. It fairly makes me dizzy to -think of that everlasting racket they are beating about people’s ears -down there. Bragg defeated, and separated from Longstreet. It is a long -street that knows no turning, and Rosecrans is not taken after all. - -_November 30th._—Anxiety pervades. Lee is fighting Meade. Misery is -everywhere. Bragg is falling back before Grant[106]. Longstreet, the -soldiers call him Peter the Slow, is settling down before Knoxville. - -General Lee requires us to answer every letter, said Mr. Venable, and to -do our best to console the poor creatures whose husbands and sons are -fighting the battles of the country. - -_December 2d._—Bragg begs to be relieved of his command. The army will be -relieved to get rid of him. He has a winning way of earning everybody’s -detestation. Heavens, how they hate him! The rapid flight of his army -terminated at Ringgold. Hardie declines even a temporary command of the -Western army. Preston Johnston has been sent out post-haste at a moment’s -warning. He was not even allowed time to go home and tell his wife -good-by or, as Browne, the Englishman, said, “to put a clean shirt into -his traveling bag.” Lee and Meade are facing each other gallantly[107]. - -The first of December we went with a party of Mrs. Ould’s getting -up, to see a French frigate which lay at anchor down the river. The -French officers came on board our boat. The Lees were aboard. The -French officers were not in the least attractive either in manners or -appearance, but our ladies were most attentive and some showered bad -French upon them with a lavish hand, always accompanied by queer grimaces -to eke out the scanty supply of French words, the sentences ending -usually in a nervous shriek. “Are they deaf?” asked Mrs. Randolph. - -The French frigate was a dirty little thing. Doctor Garnett was so buoyed -up with hope that the French were coming to our rescue, that he would -not let me say “an English man-of-war is the cleanest thing known in -the world.” Captain —— said to Mary Lee, with a foreign contortion of -countenance, that went for a smile, “I’s bashlor.” Judge Ould said, as we -went to dinner on our own steamer, “They will not drink our President’s -health. They do not acknowledge us to be a nation. Mind, none of you say -‘Emperor,’ not once.” Doctor Garnett interpreted the laws of politeness -otherwise, and stepped forward, his mouth fairly distended with so much -French, and said: “Vieff l’Emperor.” Young Gibson seconded him quietly, -“_À la santé de l’Empereur_.” But silence prevailed. Preston Hampton was -the handsomest man on board—“the figure of Hercules, the face of Apollo,” -cried an enthusiastic girl. Preston was as lazy and as sleepy as ever. He -said of the Frenchmen: “They can’t help not being good-looking, but with -all the world open to them, to wear such shabby clothes!” - -The lieutenant’s name was Rousseau. On the French frigate, lying on -one of the tables was a volume of Jean Jacques Rousseau’s works, side -by side, strange to say, with a map of South Carolina. This lieutenant -was courteously asked by Mary Lee to select some lady to whom she -might introduce him. He answered: “I shuse you,” with a bow that was a -benediction and a prayer. - -And now I am in a fine condition for Hetty Cary’s starvation party, where -they will give thirty dollars for the music and not a cent for a morsel -to eat. Preston said contentedly, “I hate dancing, and I hate cold water; -so I will eschew the festivity to-night.” - -Found John R. Thompson at our house when I got home so tired to-night. -He brought me the last number of the Cornhill. He knew how much I was -interested in Trollope’s story, Framley Parsonage. - -_December 4th._—My husband bought yesterday at the Commissary’s one -barrel of flour, one bushel of potatoes, one peck of rice, five pounds of -salt beef, and one peck of salt—all for sixty dollars. In the street a -barrel of flour sells for one hundred and fifteen dollars. - -_December 5th._—Wigfall was here last night. He began by wanting to hang -Jeff Davis. My husband managed him beautifully. He soon ceased to talk -virulent nonsense, and calmed down to his usual strong common sense. -I knew it was quite late, but I had no idea of the hour. My husband -beckoned me out. “It is all your fault,” said he. “What?” “Why will you -persist in looking so interested in all Wigfall is saying? Don’t let him -catch your eye. Look into the fire. Did you not hear it strike two?” - -This attack was so sudden, so violent, so unlooked for, I could only -laugh hysterically. However, as an obedient wife, I went back, gravely -took my seat and looked into the fire. I did not even dare raise my -eyes to see what my husband was doing—if he, too, looked into the fire. -Wigfall soon tired of so tame an audience and took his departure. - -General Lawton was here. He was one of Stonewall’s generals. So I -listened with all my ears when he said: “Stonewall could not sleep. -So, every two or three nights you were waked up by orders to have your -brigade in marching order before daylight and report in person to the -Commander. Then you were marched a few miles out and then a few miles -in again. All this was to make us ready, ever on the alert. And the end -of it was this: Jackson’s men would go half a day’s march before Peter -Longstreet waked and breakfasted. I think there is a popular delusion -about the amount of praying he did. He certainly preferred a fight on -Sunday to a sermon. Failing to manage a fight, he loved best a long -Presbyterian sermon, Calvinistic to the core. - -“He had shown small sympathy with human infirmity. He was a one-idea-ed -man. He looked upon broken-down men and stragglers as the same thing. -He classed all who were weak and weary, who fainted by the wayside, as -men wanting in patriotism. If a man’s face was as white as cotton and -his pulse so low you scarce could feel it, he looked upon him merely as -an inefficient soldier and rode off impatiently. He was the true type -of all great soldiers. Like the successful warriors of the world, he -did not value human life where he had an object to accomplish. He could -order men to their death as a matter of course. His soldiers obeyed him -to the death. Faith they had in him stronger than death. Their respect -he commanded. I doubt if he had so much of their love as is talked about -while he was alive. Now, that they see a few more years of Stonewall -would have freed them from the Yankees, they deify him. Any man is proud -to have been one of the famous Stonewall brigade. But, be sure, it was -bitter hard work to keep up with him as all know who ever served under -him. He gave his orders rapidly and distinctly and rode away, never -allowing answer or remonstrance. It was, ‘Look there—see that place—take -it!’ When you failed you were apt to be put under arrest. When you -reported the place taken, he only said, ‘Good!’” - -Spent seventy-five dollars to-day for a little tea and sugar, and have -five hundred left. My husband’s pay never has paid for the rent of -our lodgings. He came in with dreadful news just now. I have wept so -often for things that never happened, I will withhold my tears now for -a certainty. To-day, a poor woman threw herself on her dead husband’s -coffin and kissed it. She was weeping bitterly. So did I in sympathy. - -My husband, as I told him to-day, could see me and everything that he -loved hanged, drawn, and quartered without moving a muscle, if a crowd -were looking on; he could have the same gentle operation performed on -himself and make no sign. To all of which violent insinuation he answered -in unmoved tones: “So would any civilized man. Savages, however—Indians, -at least—are more dignified in that particular than we are. Noisy, -fidgety grief never moves me at all; it annoys me. Self-control is what -we all need. You are a miracle of sensibility; self-control is what you -need.” “So you are civilized!” I said. “Some day I mean to be.” - -_December 9th._—“Come here, Mrs. Chesnut,” said Mary Preston to-day, -“they are lifting General Hood out of his carriage, here, at your -door.” Mrs. Grundy promptly had him borne into her drawing-room, which -was on the first floor. Mary Preston and I ran down and greeted him as -cheerfully and as cordially as if nothing had happened since we saw -him standing before us a year ago. How he was waited upon! Some cut-up -oranges were brought him. “How kind people are,” said he. “Not once since -I was wounded have I ever been left without fruit, hard as it is to get -now.” “The money value of friendship is easily counted now,” said some -one, “oranges are five dollars apiece.” - -_December 10th._—Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Lyons came. We had luncheon brought -in for them, and then a lucid explanation of the _chronique scandaleuse_, -of which Beck J. is the heroine. We walked home with Mrs. Davis and met -the President riding alone. Surely that is wrong. It must be unsafe for -him when there are so many traitors, not to speak of bribed negroes. -Burton Harrison[108] says Mr. Davis prefers to go alone, and there is -none to gainsay him. - -My husband laid the law down last night. I felt it to be the last drop -in my full cup. “No more feasting in this house,” said he. “This is no -time for junketing and merrymaking.” “And you said you brought me here to -enjoy the winter before you took me home and turned my face to a dead -wall.” He is the master of the house; to hear is to obey. - -_December 14th._—Drove out with Mrs. Davis. She had a watch in her hand -which some poor dead soldier wanted to have sent to his family. First, -we went to her mantua-maker, then we drove to the Fair Grounds where the -band was playing. Suddenly, she missed the watch. She remembered having -it when we came out of the mantua-maker’s. We drove back instantly, and -there the watch was lying near the steps of the little porch in front of -the house. No one had passed in, apparently; in any case, no one had seen -it. - -Preston Hampton went with me to see Conny Cary. The talk was frantically -literary, which Preston thought hard on him. I had just brought the St. -Denis number of Les Misérables. - -Sunday, Christopher Hampton walked to church with me. Coming out, General -Lee was seen slowly making his way down the aisle, bowing royally to -right and left. I pointed him out to Christopher Hampton when General -Lee happened to look our way. He bowed low, giving me a charming smile -of recognition. I was ashamed of being so pleased. I blushed like a -schoolgirl. - -We went to the White House. They gave us tea. The President said he had -been on the way to our house, coming with all the Davis family, to see -me, but the children became so troublesome they turned back. Just then, -little Joe rushed in and insisted on saying his prayers at his father’s -knee, then and there. He was in his night-clothes. - -[Illustration: THE DAVIS MANSION IN RICHMOND, THE “WHITE HOUSE” OF THE -CONFEDERACY. - -Now the Confederate Museum.] - -_December 19th._—A box has come from home for me. Taking advantage of -this good fortune and a full larder, have asked Mrs. Davis to dine -with me. Wade Hampton sent me a basket of game. We had Mrs. Davis and -Mr. and Mrs. Preston. After dinner we walked to the church to see the -Freeland-Lewis wedding. Mr. Preston had Mrs. Davis on his arm. My husband -and Mrs. Preston, and Burton Harrison and myself brought up the rear. -Willie Allan joined us, and we had the pleasure of waiting one good hour. -Then the beautiful Maria, loveliest of brides, sailed in on her father’s -arm, and Major John Coxe Lewis followed with Mrs. Freeland. After the -ceremony such a kissing was there up and down the aisle. The happy -bridegroom kissed wildly, and several girls complained, but he said: “How -am I to know Maria’s kin whom I was to kiss? It is better to show too -much affection for one’s new relations than too little.” - -_December 21st._—Joe Johnston has been made Commander-in-chief of the -Army of the West. General Lee had this done,’tis said. Miss Agnes Lee and -“little Robert” (as they fondly call General Lee’s youngest son in this -hero-worshiping community) called. They told us the President, General -Lee, and General Elzey had gone out to look at the fortifications around -Richmond. My husband came home saying he had been with them, and lent -General Lee his gray horse. - -Mrs. Howell, Mrs. Davis’s mother, says a year ago on the cars a man said, -“We want a Dictator.” She replied, “Jeff Davis will never consent to be -a Dictator.” The man turned sharply toward her “And, pray, who asks him? -Joe Johnston will be made Dictator by the Army of the West.” “Imperator” -was suggested. Of late the Army of the West has not been in a condition -to dictate to friend or foe. Certainly Jeff Davis did hate to put Joe -Johnston at the head of what is left of it. Detached from General Lee, -what a horrible failure is Longstreet! Oh, for a day of Albert Sidney -Johnston out West! And Stonewall, could he come back to us here! - -General Hood, the wounded knight, came for me to drive. I felt that I -would soon find myself chaperoning some girls, but I asked no questions. -He improved the time between Franklin and Cary Streets by saying, “I do -like your husband so much.” “So do I,” I replied simply. Buck was ill in -bed, so William said at the door, but she recovered her health and came -down for the drive in black velvet and ermine, looking queenly. And then, -with the top of the landau thrown back, wrapped in furs and rugs, we had -a long drive that bitter cold day. - -One day as we were hieing us home from the Fair Grounds, Sam, the wounded -knight, asked Brewster what are the symptoms of a man’s being in love. -Sam (Hood is called Sam entirely, but why I do not know) said for his -part he did not know; at seventeen he had fancied himself in love, but -that was “a long time ago.” Brewster spoke on the symptoms of love: “When -you see her, your breath is apt to come short. If it amounts to mild -strangulation, you have got it bad. You are stupidly jealous, glowering -with jealousy, and have a gloomy fixed conviction that she likes every -fool you meet better than she does you, especially people that you -know she has a thorough contempt for; that is, you knew it before you -lost your head, I mean, before you fell in love. The last stages of -unmitigated spooniness, I will spare you,” said Brewster, with a giggle -and a wave of the hand. “Well,” said Sam, drawing a breath of relief, “I -have felt none of these things so far, and yet they say I am engaged to -four young ladies, a liberal allowance, you will admit, for a man who can -not walk without help.” - -Another day (the Sabbath) we called on our way from church to see Mrs. -Wigfall. She was ill, but Mr. Wigfall insisted upon taking me into the -drawing-room to rest a while. He said Louly was there; so she was, and -so was Sam Hood, the wounded knight, stretched at full length on a sofa -and a rug thrown over him. Louis Wigfall said to me: “Do you know General -Hood?” “Yes,” said I, and the General laughed with his eyes as I looked -at him; but he did not say a word. I felt it a curious commentary upon -the reports he had spoken of the day before. Louly Wigfall is a very -handsome girl. - -_December 24th._—As we walked, Brewster reported a row he had had with -General Hood. Brewster had told those six young ladies at the Prestons’ -that “old Sam” was in the habit of saying he would not marry if he could -any silly, sentimental girl, who would throw herself away upon a maimed -creature such as he was. When Brewster went home he took pleasure in -telling Sam how the ladies had complimented his good sense, whereupon -the General rose in his wrath and threatened to break his crutch over -Brewster’s head. To think he could be such a fool—to go about repeating -to everybody his whimperings. - -I was taking my seat at the head of the table when the door opened and -Brewster walked in unannounced. He took his stand in front of the open -door, with his hands in his pockets and his small hat pushed back as far -as it could get from his forehead. - -“What!” said he, “you are not ready yet? The generals are below. Did you -get my note?” I begged my husband to excuse me and rushed off to put on -my bonnet and furs. I met the girls coming up with a strange man. The -flurry of two major-generals had been too much for me and I forgot to ask -the new one’s name. They went up to dine in my place with my husband, who -sat eating his dinner, with Lawrence’s undivided attention given to him, -amid this whirling and eddying in and out of the world militant. Mary -Preston and I then went to drive with the generals. The new one proved -to be Buckner[109], who is also a Kentuckian. The two men told us they -had slept together the night before Chickamauga. It is useless to try: -legs can’t any longer be kept out of the conversation. So General Buckner -said: “Once before I slept with a man and he lost his leg next day.” -He had made a vow never to do so again. “When Sam and I parted that -morning, we said: ‘You or I may be killed, but the cause will be safe all -the same.’” - -After the drive everybody came in to tea, my husband in famous good -humor, we had an unusually gay evening. It was very nice of my husband to -take no notice of my conduct at dinner, which had been open to criticism. -All the comfort of my life depends upon his being in good humor. - -_Christmas Day, 1863._—Yesterday dined with the Prestons. Wore one of my -handsomest Paris dresses (from Paris before the war). Three magnificent -Kentucky generals were present, with Senator Orr from South Carolina, and -Mr. Miles. General Buckner repeated a speech of Hood’s to him to show -how friendly they were. “I prefer a ride with you to the company of any -woman in the world,” Buckner had answered. “I prefer your company to that -of any man, certainly,” was Hood’s reply. This became the standing joke -of the dinner; it flashed up in every form. Poor Sam got out of it so -badly, if he got out of it at all. General Buckner said patronizingly, -“Lame excuses, all. Hood never gets out of any scrape—that is, unless he -can fight out.” Others dropped in after dinner; some without arms, some -without legs; von Borcke, who can not speak because of a wound in his -throat. Isabella said: “We have all kinds now, but a blind one.” Poor -fellows, they laugh at wounds. “And they yet can show many a scar.” - -We had for dinner oyster soup, besides roast mutton, ham, boned turkey, -wild duck, partridge, plum pudding, sauterne, burgundy, sherry, and -Madeira. There is life in the old land yet! - -At my house to-day after dinner, and while Alex Haskell and my husband -sat over the wine, Hood gave me an account of his discomfiture last -night. He said he could not sleep after it; it was the hardest battle he -had ever fought in his life, “and I was routed, as it were; she told me -there was no hope; that ends it. You know at Petersburg on my way to -the Western army she half-promised me to think of it. She would not say -‘Yes,’ but she did not say ‘No’—that is, not exactly. At any rate, I went -off saying, ‘I am engaged to you,’ and she said, ‘I am not engaged to -you.’ After I was so fearfully wounded I gave it up. But, then, since I -came,” etc. - -“Do you mean to say,” said I, “that you had proposed to her before that -conversation in the carriage, when you asked Brewster the symptoms of -love? I like your audacity.” “Oh, she understood, but it is all up now, -for she says, ‘No!’” - -My husband says I am extravagant. “No, my friend, not that,” said I. -“I had fifteen hundred dollars and I have spent every cent of it in my -housekeeping. Not one cent for myself, not one cent for dress nor any -personal want whatever.” He calls me “hospitality run mad.” - -_January 1, 1864._—General Hood’s an awful flatterer—I mean an awkward -flatterer. I told him to praise my husband to some one else, not to me. -He ought to praise me to somebody who would tell my husband, and then -praise my husband to another person who would tell me. Man and wife are -too much one person—to wave a compliment straight in the face of one -about the other is not graceful. - -One more year of Stonewall would have saved us. Chickamauga is the only -battle we have gained since Stonewall died, and no results follow as -usual. Stonewall was not so much as killed by a Yankee: he was shot by -his own men; that is hard. General Lee can do no more than keep back -Meade. “One of Meade’s armies, you mean,” said I, “for they have only to -double on him when Lee whips one of them.” - -General Edward Johnston says he got Grant a place—_esprit de corps_, you -know. He could not bear to see an old army man driving a wagon; that was -when he found him out West, put out of the army for habitual drunkenness. -He is their right man, a bull-headed Suwarrow. He don’t care a snap -if men fall like the leaves fall; he fights to win, that chap does. He -is not distracted by a thousand side issues; he does not see them. He -is narrow and sure—sees only in a straight line. Like Louis Napoleon, -from a battle in the gutter, he goes straight up. Yes, as with Lincoln, -they have ceased to carp at him as a rough clown, no gentleman, etc. You -never hear now of Lincoln’s nasty fun; only of his wisdom. Doesn’t take -much soap and water to wash the hands that the rod of empire sway. They -talked of Lincoln’s drunkenness, too. Now, since Vicksburg they have -not a word to say against Grant’s habits. He has the disagreeable habit -of not retreating before irresistible veterans. General Lee and Albert -Sidney Johnston show blood and breeding. They are of the Bayard and -Philip Sidney order of soldiers. Listen: if General Lee had had Grant’s -resources he would have bagged the last Yankee, or have had them all safe -back in Massachusetts. “You mean if he had not the weight of the negro -question upon him?” “No, I mean if he had Grant’s unlimited allowance of -the powers of war—men, money, ammunition, arms.” - -Mrs. Ould says Mrs. Lincoln found the gardener of the White House so -nice, she would make him a major-general. Lincoln remarked to the -secretary: “Well, the little woman must have her way sometimes.” - -A word of the last night of the old year. “Gloria Mundi” sent me a cup of -strong, good coffee. I drank two cups and so I did not sleep a wink. Like -a fool I passed my whole life in review, and bitter memories maddened me -quite. Then came a happy thought. I mapped out a story of the war. The -plot came to hand, for it was true. Johnny is the hero, a light dragoon -and heavy swell. I will call it F. F.’s, for it is the F. F.’s both of -South Carolina and Virginia. It is to be a war story, and the filling out -of the skeleton was the best way to put myself to sleep. - -_January 4th._—Mrs. Ives wants us to translate a French play. A genuine -French captain came in from his ship on the James River and gave us good -advice as to how to make the selection. General Hampton sent another -basket of partridges, and all goes merry as a marriage bell. - -My husband came in and nearly killed us. He brought this piece of news: -“North Carolina wants to offer terms of peace!” We needed only a break of -that kind to finish us. I really shivered nervously, as one does when the -first handful of earth comes rattling down on the coffin in the grave of -one we cared for more than all who are left. - -_January 5th._—At Mrs. Preston’s, met the Light Brigade in battle array, -ready to sally forth, conquering and to conquer. They would stand no -nonsense from me about staying at home to translate a French play. -Indeed, the plays that have been sent us are so indecent I scarcely know -where a play is to be found that would do at all. - -While at dinner the President’s carriage drove up with only General Hood. -He sent up to ask in Maggie Howell’s name would I go with them? I tied -up two partridges between plates with a serviette, for Buck, who is ill, -and then went down. We picked up Mary Preston. It was Maggie’s drive; -as the soldiers say, I was only on “escort duty.” At the Prestons’, -Major Venable met us at the door and took in the partridges to Buck. As -we drove off Maggie said: “Major Venable is a Carolinian, I see.” “No; -Virginian to the core.” “But, then, he was a professor in the South -Carolina College before the war.” Mary Preston said: “She is taking a -fling at your weakness for all South Carolina.” - -Came home and found my husband in a bitter mood. It has all gone wrong -with our world. The loss of our private fortune the smallest part. He -intimates, “with so much human misery filling the air, we might stay at -home and think.” “And go mad?” said I. “Catch me at it! A yawning grave, -with piles of red earth thrown on one side; that is the only future I -ever see. You remember Emma Stockton? She and I were as blithe as birds -that day at Mulberry. I came here the next day, and when I arrived a -telegram said: ‘Emma Stockton found dead in her bed.’ It is awfully near, -that thought. No, no. I will not stop and think of death always.” - -_January 8th._—Snow of the deepest. Nobody can come to-day, I thought. -But they did! My girls, first; then Constance Cary tripped in—the clever -Conny. Hetty is the beauty, so called, though she is clever enough, too; -but Constance is actually clever and has a classically perfect outline. -Next came the four Kentuckians and Preston Hampton. He is as tall as the -Kentuckians and ever so much better looking. Then we had egg-nog. - -I was to take Miss Cary to the Semmes’s. My husband inquired the price of -a carriage. It was twenty-five dollars an hour! He cursed by all his gods -at such extravagance. The play was not worth the candle, or carriage, in -this instance. In Confederate money it sounds so much worse than it is. -I did not dream of asking him to go with me after that lively overture. -“I did intend to go with you,” he said, “but you do not ask me.” “And I -have been asking you for twenty years to go with me, in vain. Think of -that!” I said, tragically. We could not wait for him to dress, so I sent -the twenty-five-dollar-an-hour carriage back for him. We were behind -time, as it was. When he came, the beautiful Hetty Cary and her friend, -Captain Tucker, were with him. Major von Borcke and Preston Hampton were -at the Cary’s, in the drawing-room when we called for Constance, who was -dressing. I challenge the world to produce finer specimens of humanity -than these three: the Prussian von Borcke, Preston Hampton, and Hetty -Cary. - -We spoke to the Prussian about the vote of thanks passed by Congress -yesterday—“thanks of the country to Major von Borcke.” The poor man -was as modest as a girl—in spite of his huge proportions. “That is a -compliment, indeed!” said Hetty. “Yes. I saw it. And the happiest, -the proudest day of my life as I read it. It was at the hotel -breakfast-table. I try to hide my face with the newspaper, I feel it -grow so red. But my friend he has his newspaper, too, and he sees the -same thing. So he looks my way—he says, pointing to me—‘Why does he grow -so red? He has got something there!’ and he laughs. Then I try to read -aloud the so kind compliments of the Congress—but—he—you—I can not—” -He puts his hand to his throat. His broken English and the difficulty -of his enunciation with that wound in his windpipe makes it all very -touching—and very hard to understand. - -The Semmes charade party was a perfect success. The play was charming. -Sweet little Mrs. Lawson Clay had a seat for me banked up among women. -The female part of the congregation, strictly segregated from the male, -were placed all together in rows. They formed a gay parterre, edged by -the men in their black coats and gray uniforms. Toward the back part of -the room, the mass of black and gray was solid. Captain Tucker bewailed -his fate. He was stranded out there with those forlorn men, but could -see us laughing, and fancied what we were saying was worth a thousand -charades. He preferred talking to a clever woman to any known way of -passing a pleasant hour. “So do I,” somebody said. - -On a sofa of state in front of all sat the President and Mrs. Davis. -Little Maggie Davis was one of the child actresses. Her parents had a -right to be proud of her; with her flashing black eyes, she was a marked -figure on the stage. She is a handsome creature and she acted her part -admirably. The shrine was beautiful beyond words. The Semmes and Ives -families are Roman Catholics, and understand getting up that sort of -thing. First came the “Palmers Gray,” then Mrs. Ives, a solitary figure, -the loveliest of penitent women. The Eastern pilgrims were delightfully -costumed; we could not understand how so much Christian piety could -come clothed in such odalisque robes. Mrs. Ould, as a queen, was as -handsome and regal as heart could wish for. She was accompanied by a very -satisfactory king, whose name, if I ever knew, I have forgotten. There -was a resplendent knight of St. John, and then an American Indian. After -their orisons they all knelt and laid something on the altar as a votive -gift. - -Burton Harrison, the President’s handsome young secretary, was gotten -up as a big brave in a dress presented to Mr. Davis by Indians for some -kindness he showed them years ago. It was a complete warrior’s outfit, -scant as that is. The feathers stuck in the back of Mr. Harrison’s head -had a charmingly comic effect. He had to shave himself as clean as a baby -or he could not act the beardless chief, Spotted Tail, Billy Bowlegs, Big -Thunder, or whatever his character was. So he folded up his loved and -lost mustache, the Christianized red Indian, and laid it on the altar, -the most sacred treasure of his life, the witness of his most heroic -sacrifice, on the shrine. - -Senator Hill, of Georgia, took me in to supper, where were ices, chicken -salad, oysters, and champagne. The President came in alone, I suppose, -for while we were talking after supper and your humble servant was -standing between Mrs. Randolph and Mrs. Stanard, he approached, offered -me his arm and we walked off, oblivious of Mr. Senator Hill. Remember -this, ladies, and forgive me for recording it, but Mrs. Stanard and Mrs. -Randolph are the handsomest women in Richmond; I am no older than they -are, or younger, either, sad to say. Now, the President walked with -me slowly up and down that long room, and our conversation was of the -saddest. Nobody knows so well as he the difficulties which beset this -hard-driven Confederacy. He has a voice which is perfectly modulated, -a comfort in this loud and rough soldier world. I think there is a -melancholy cadence in his voice at times, of which he is unconscious when -he talks of things as they are now. - -My husband was so intensely charmed with Hetty Cary that he -declined at the first call to accompany his wife home in the -twenty-five-dollar-an-hour carriage. He ordered it to return. When -it came, his wife (a good manager) packed the Carys and him in with -herself, leaving the other two men who came with the party, when it was -divided into “trips,” to make their way home in the cold. At our door, -near daylight of that bitter cold morning, I had the pleasure to see -my husband, like a man, stand and pay for that carriage! To-day he is -pleased with himself, with me, and with all the world; says if there was -no such word as “fascinating” you would have to invent one to describe -Hetty Cary. - -_January 9th._—Met Mrs. Wigfall. She wants me to take Halsey to Mrs. -Randolph’s theatricals. I am to get him up as Sir Walter Raleigh. Now, -General Breckinridge has come. I like him better than any of them. -Morgan also is here.[110] These huge Kentuckians fill the town. Isabella -says, “They hold Morgan accountable for the loss of Chattanooga.” The -follies of the wise, the weaknesses of the great! She shakes her head -significantly when I begin to tell why I like him so well. Last night -General Buckner came for her to go with him and rehearse at the Carys’ -for Mrs. Randolph’s charades. - -The President’s man, Jim, that he believed in as we all believe in our -own servants, “our own people,” as we call them, and Betsy, Mrs. Davis’s -maid, decamped last night. It is miraculous that they had the fortitude -to resist the temptation so long. At Mrs. Davis’s the hired servants all -have been birds of passage. First they were seen with gold galore, and -then they would fly to the Yankees, and I am sure they had nothing to -tell. It is Yankee money wasted. I do not think it had ever crossed Mrs. -Davis’s brain that these two could leave her. She knew, however, that -Betsy had eighty dollars in gold and two thousand four hundred dollars in -Confederate notes. - -Everybody who comes in brings a little bad news—not much, in itself, but -by cumulative process the effect is depressing, indeed. - -_January 12th._—To-night there will be a great gathering of Kentuckians. -Morgan gives them a dinner. The city of Richmond entertains John Morgan. -He is at free quarters. The girls dined here. Conny Cary came back for -more white feathers. Isabella had appropriated two sets and obstinately -refused Constance Cary a single feather from her pile. She said, sternly: -“I have never been on the stage before, and I have a presentiment when -my father hears of this, I will never go again. I am to appear before -the footlights as an English dowager duchess, and I mean to rustle in -every feather, to wear all the lace and diamonds these two houses can -compass”—(mine and Mrs. Preston’s). She was jolly but firm, and Constance -departed without any additional plumage for her Lady Teazle. - -_January 14th._—Gave Mrs. White twenty-three dollars for a turkey. Came -home wondering all the way why she did not ask twenty-five; two more -dollars could not have made me balk at the bargain, and twenty-three -sounds odd. - -_January 15th._—What a day the Kentuckians have had! Mrs. Webb gave them -a breakfast; from there they proceeded _en masse_ to General Lawton’s -dinner, and then came straight here, all of which seems equal to one -of Stonewall’s forced marches. General Lawton took me in to supper. In -spite of his dinner he had misgivings. “My heart is heavy,” said he, -“even here. All seems too light, too careless, for such terrible times. -It seems out of place here in battle-scarred Richmond.” “I have heard -something of that kind at home,” I replied. “Hope and fear are both -gone, and it is distraction or death with us. I do not see how sadness -and despondency would help us. If it would do any good, we would be sad -enough.” - -We laughed at General Hood. General Lawton thought him better fitted for -gallantry on the battle-field than playing a lute in my lady’s chamber. -When Miss Giles was electrifying the audience as the Fair Penitent, -some one said: “Oh, that is so pretty!” Hood cried out with stern -reproachfulness: “That is not pretty; it is elegant.” - -Not only had my house been rifled for theatrical properties, but as the -play went on they came for my black velvet cloak. When it was over, I -thought I should never get away, my cloak was so hard to find. But it -gave me an opportunity to witness many things behind the scenes—that -cloak hunt did. Behind the scenes! I know a little what that means now. - -General Jeb Stuart was at Mrs. Randolph’s in his cavalry jacket and high -boots. He was devoted to Hetty Cary. Constance Cary said to me, pointing -to his stars, “Hetty likes them that way, you know—gilt-edged and with -stars.” - -_January 16th._—A visit from the President’s handsome and accomplished -secretary, Burton Harrison. I lent him Country Clergyman in Town and -Elective Affinities. He is to bring me Mrs. Norton’s Lost and Saved. - -At Mrs. Randolph’s, my husband complimented one of the ladies, who had -amply earned his praise by her splendid acting. She pointed to a young -man, saying, “You see that wretch; he has not said one word to me!” My -husband asked innocently, “Why should he? And why is he a wretch?” “Oh, -you know!” Going home I explained this riddle to him; he is always a year -behindhand in gossip. “They said those two were engaged last winter, and -now there seems to be a screw loose; but that sort of thing always comes -right.” The Carys prefer James Chesnut to his wife. I don’t mind. Indeed, -I like it. I do, too. - -Every Sunday Mr. Minnegerode cried aloud in anguish his litany, “from -pestilence and famine, battle, murder, and sudden death,” and we wailed -on our knees, “Good Lord deliver us,” and on Monday, and all the week -long, we go on as before, hearing of nothing but battle, murder, and -sudden death, which are daily events. Now I have a new book; that is -the unlooked-for thing, a pleasing incident in this life of monotonous -misery. We live in a huge barrack. We are shut in, guarded from light -without. - -At breakfast to-day came a card, and without an instant’s interlude, -perhaps the neatest, most fastidious man in South Carolina walked in. I -was uncombed, unkempt, tattered, and torn, in my most comfortable, worst -worn, wadded green silk dressing-gown, with a white woolen shawl over my -head to keep off draughts. He has not been in the war yet, and now he -wants to be captain of an engineer corps. I wish he may get it! He has -always been my friend; so he shall lack no aid that I can give. If he -can stand the shock of my appearance to-day, we may reasonably expect to -continue friends until death. Of all men, the fastidious Barny Heywood to -come in. He faced the situation gallantly. - -_January 18th._—Invited to Dr. Haxall’s last night to meet the Lawtons. -Mr. Benjamin[111] dropped in. He is a friend of the house. Mrs. Haxall is -a Richmond leader of society, a _ci-devant_ beauty and belle, a charming -person still, and her hospitality is of the genuine Virginia type. -Everything Mr. Benjamin said we listened to, bore in mind, and gave heed -to it diligently. He is a Delphic oracle, of the innermost shrine, and is -supposed to enjoy the honor of Mr. Davis’s unreserved confidence. - -Lamar was asked to dinner here yesterday; so he came to-day. We had our -wild turkey cooked for him yesterday, and I dressed myself within an -inch of my life with the best of my four-year-old finery. Two of us, my -husband and I, did not damage the wild turkey seriously. So Lamar enjoyed -the _réchauffé_, and commended the art with which Molly had hid the -slight loss we had inflicted upon its mighty breast. She had piled fried -oysters over the turkey so skilfully, that unless we had told about it, -no one would ever have known that the huge bird was making his second -appearance on the board. - -Lamar was more absent-minded and distrait than ever. My husband behaved -like a trump—a well-bred man, with all his wits about him; so things -went off smoothly enough. Lamar had just read Romola. Across the water -he said it was the rage. I am sure it is not as good as Adam Bede or -Silas Marner. It is not worthy of the woman who was to “rival all but -Shakespeare’s name below.” “What is the matter with Romola?” he asked. -“Tito is so mean, and he is mean in such a very mean way, and the end is -so repulsive. Petting the husband’s illegitimate children and left-handed -wives may be magnanimity, but human nature revolts at it.” “Woman’s -nature, you mean!” “Yes, and now another test. Two weeks ago I read this -thing with intense interest, and already her Savonarola has faded from my -mind. I have forgotten her way of showing Savonarola as completely as I -always do forget Bulwer’s Rienzi.” - -“Oh, I understand you now! It is like Milton’s devil—he has obliterated -all other devils. You can’t fix your mind upon any other. The devil -always must be of Miltonic proportions or you do not believe in him; -Goethe’s Mephistopheles disputes the crown of the causeway with -Lucifer. But soon you begin to feel that Mephistopheles to be a lesser -devil, an emissary of the devil only. Is there any Cardinal Wolsey but -Shakespeare’s? any Mirabeau but Carlyle’s Mirabeau? But the list is -too long of those who have been stamped into your brain by genius. The -saintly preacher, the woman who stands by Hetty and saves her soul; those -heavenly minded sermons preached by the author of Adam Bede, bear them -well in mind while I tell you how this writer, who so well imagines and -depicts female purity and piety, was a governess, or something of that -sort, and perhaps wrote for a living; at any rate, she had an elective -affinity, which was responded to, by George Lewes, and so she lives with -Lewes. I do not know that she caused the separation between Lewes and -his legal wife. They are living in a villa on some Swiss lake, and Mrs. -Lewes, of the hour, is a charitable, estimable, agreeable, sympathetic -woman of genius.” - -Lamar seemed without prejudices on the subject; at least, he expressed -neither surprise nor disapprobation. He said something of “genius being -above law,” but I was not very clear as to what he said on that point. -As for me I said nothing for fear of saying too much. “You know that -Lewes is a writer,” said he. “Some people say the man she lives with is a -noble man.” “They say she is kind and good if—a fallen woman.” Here the -conversation ended. - -_January 20th._—And now comes a grand announcement made by the Yankee -Congress. They vote one million of men to be sent down here to free the -prisoners whom they will not take in exchange. I actually thought they -left all these Yankees here on our hands as part of their plan to starve -us out. All Congressmen under fifty years of age are to leave politics -and report for military duty or be conscripted. What enthusiasm there is -in their councils! Confusion, rather, it seems to me! Mrs. Ould says “the -men who frequent her house are more despondent now than ever since this -thing began.” - -Our Congress is so demoralized, so confused, so depressed. They have -asked the President, whom they have so hated, so insulted, so crossed -and opposed and thwarted in every way, to speak to them, and advise them -what to do. - -_January 21st._—Both of us were too ill to attend Mrs. Davis’s reception. -It proved a very sensational one. First, a fire in the house, then a -robbery—said to be an arranged plan of the usual bribed servants there -and some escaped Yankee prisoners. To-day the Examiner is lost in wonder -at the stupidity of the fire and arson contingent. If they had only -waited a few hours until everybody was asleep; after a reception the -household would be so tired and so sound asleep. Thanks to the editor’s -kind counsel maybe the arson contingent will wait and do better next time. - -Letters from home carried Mr. Chesnut off to-day. Thackeray is dead. I -stumbled upon Vanity Fair for myself. I had never heard of Thackeray -before. I think it was in 1850. I know I had been ill at the New York -Hotel[112], and when left alone, I slipped down-stairs and into a -bookstore that I had noticed under the hotel, for something to read. They -gave me the first half of Pendennis. I can recall now the very kind of -paper it was printed on, and the illustrations, as they took effect upon -me. And yet when I raved over it, and was wild for the other half, there -were people who said it was slow; that Thackeray was evidently a coarse, -dull, sneering writer; that he stripped human nature bare, and made it -repulsive, etc. - -_January 22d._—At Mrs. Lyons’s met another beautiful woman, Mrs. Penn, -the wife of Colonel Penn, who is making shoes in a Yankee prison. She had -a little son with her, barely two years old, a mere infant. She said to -him, “_Faites comme_ Butler.” The child crossed his eyes and made himself -hideous, then laughed and rioted around as if he enjoyed the joke hugely. - -Went to Mrs. Davis’s. It was sad enough. Fancy having to be always ready -to have your servants set your house on fire, being bribed to do it. Such -constant robberies, such servants coming and going daily to the Yankees, -carrying one’s silver, one’s other possessions, does not conduce to home -happiness. - -Saw Hood on his legs once more. He rode off on a fine horse, and managed -it well, though he is disabled in one hand, too. After all, as the woman -said, “He has body enough left to hold his soul.” “How plucky of him to -ride a gay horse like that.” “Oh, a Kentuckian prides himself upon being -half horse and half man!” “And the girl who rode beside him. Did you ever -see a more brilliant beauty? Three cheers for South Carolina!!” - -I imparted a plan of mine to Brewster. I would have a breakfast, a -luncheon, a matinee, call it what you please, but I would try and return -some of the hospitalities of this most hospitable people. Just think of -the dinners, suppers, breakfasts we have been to. People have no variety -in war times, but they make up for that lack in exquisite cooking. - -“Variety?” said he. “You are hard to please, with terrapin stew, gumbo, -fish, oysters in every shape, game, and wine—as good as wine ever is. I -do not mention juleps, claret cup, apple toddy, whisky punches and all -that. I tell you it is good enough for me. Variety would spoil it. Such -hams as these Virginia people cure; such home-made bread—there is no such -bread in the world. Call yours a ‘cold collation.’” “Yes, I have eggs, -butter, hams, game, everything from home; no stint just now; even fruit.” - -“You ought to do your best. They are so generous and hospitable and -so unconscious of any merit, or exceptional credit, in the matter of -hospitality.” “They are no better than the Columbia people always were to -us.” So I fired up for my own country. - -_January 23d._—My luncheon was a female affair exclusively. Mrs. Davis -came early and found Annie and Tudie making the chocolate. Lawrence -had gone South with my husband; so we had only Molly for cook and -parlor-maid. After the company assembled we waited and waited. Those -girls were making the final arrangements. I made my way to the door, and -as I leaned against it ready to turn the knob, Mrs. Stanard held me like -Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner, and told how she had been prevented by a -violent attack of cramps from running the blockade, and how providential -it all was. All this floated by my ear, for I heard Mary Preston’s voice -raised in high protest on the other side of the door. “Stop!” said she. -“Do you mean to take away the whole dish?” “If you eat many more of those -fried oysters they will be missed. Heavens! She is running away with a -plug, a palpable plug, out of that jelly cake!” - -Later in the afternoon, when it was over and I was safe, for all had gone -well and Molly had not disgraced herself before the mistresses of those -wonderful Virginia cooks, Mrs. Davis and I went out for a walk. Barny -Heyward and Dr. Garnett joined us, the latter bringing the welcome news -that “Muscoe Russell’s wife had come.” - -_January 25th._—The President walked home with me from church (I was to -dine with Mrs. Davis). He walked so fast I had no breath to talk; so I -was a good listener for once. The truth is I am too much afraid of him to -say very much in his presence. We had such a nice dinner. After dinner -Hood came for a ride with the President. - -Mr. Hunter, of Virginia, walked home with me. He made himself utterly -agreeable by dwelling on his friendship and admiration of my husband. He -said it was high time Mr. Davis should promote him, and that he had told -Mr. Davis his opinion on that subject to-day. - -Tuesday, Barny Heyward went with me to the President’s reception, and -from there to a ball at the McFarlands’. Breckinridge alone of the -generals went with us. The others went to a supper given by Mr. Clay, of -Alabama. I had a long talk with Mr. Ould, Mr. Benjamin, and Mr. Hunter. -These men speak out their thoughts plainly enough. What they said means -“We are rattling down hill, and nobody to put on the brakes.” I wore -my black velvet, diamonds, and point lace. They are borrowed for all -“theatricals,” but I wear them whenever they are at home. - -_February 1st._—Mrs. Davis gave her “Luncheon to Ladies Only” on -Saturday. Many more persons there than at any of these luncheons which we -have gone to before. Gumbo, ducks and olives, chickens in jelly, oysters, -lettuce salad, chocolate cream, jelly cake, claret, champagne, etc., were -the good things set before us. - -To-day, for a pair of forlorn shoes I have paid $85. Colonel Ives drew -my husband’s pay for me. I sent Lawrence for it (Mr. Chesnut ordered him -back to us; we needed a man servant here). Colonel Ives wrote that he was -amazed I should be willing to trust a darky with that great bundle of -money, but it came safely. Mr. Petigru says you take your money to market -in the market basket, and bring home what you buy in your pocket-book. - -_February 5th._—When Lawrence handed me my husband’s money (six hundred -dollars it was) I said: “Now I am pretty sure you do not mean to go to -the Yankees, for with that pile of money in your hands you must have -known there was your chance.” He grinned, but said nothing. - -At the President’s reception Hood had a perfect ovation. General Preston -navigated him through the crowd, handling him as tenderly, on his -crutches, as if he were the Princess of Wales’s new-born baby that I -read of to-day. It is bad for the head of an army to be so helpless. But -old Blücher went to Waterloo in a carriage, wearing a bonnet on his head -to shade his inflamed eyes—a heroic figure, truly; an old, red-eyed, -bonneted woman, apparently, back in a landau. And yet, “Blücher to the -rescue!” - -Afterward at the Prestons’, for we left the President’s at an early -hour. Major von Borcke was trying to teach them his way of pronouncing -his own name, and reciting numerous travesties of it in this country, -when Charles threw open the door, saying, “A gentleman has called for -Major Bandbox.” The Prussian major acknowledged this to be the worst he -had heard yet. - -Off to the Ives’s theatricals. I walked with General Breckinridge. Mrs. -Clay’s Mrs. Malaprop was beyond our wildest hopes. And she was in such -bitter earnest when she pinched Conny Cary’s (Lydia Languish’s) shoulder -and called her “an antricate little huzzy,” that Lydia showed she felt -it, and next day the shoulder was black and blue. It was not that the -actress had a grudge against Conny, but that she was intense. - -Even the back of Mrs. Clay’s head was eloquent as she walked away. “But,” -said General Breckinridge, “watch Hood; he has not seen the play before -and Bob Acres amazes him.” When he caught my eye, General Hood nodded to -me and said, “I believe that fellow Acres is a coward.” “That’s better -than the play,” whispered Breckinridge, “but it is all good from Sir -Anthony down to Fag.” - -Between the acts Mrs. Clay sent us word to applaud. She wanted -encouragement; the audience was too cold. General Breckinridge responded -like a man. After that she was fired by thunders of applause, following -his lead. Those mighty Kentuckians turned claqueurs, were a host in -themselves. Constance Cary not only acted well, but looked perfectly -beautiful. - -During the farce Mrs. Clay came in with all her feathers, diamonds, and -fallals, and took her seat by me. Said General Breckinridge, “What a -splendid head of hair you have.” “And all my own,” said she. Afterward -she said, they could not get false hair enough, so they put a pair of -black satin boots on top of her head and piled hair over them. - -We adjourned from Mrs. Ives’s to Mrs. Ould’s, where we had the usual -excellent Richmond supper. We did not get home until three. It was a -clear moonlight night—almost as light as day. As we walked along I said -to General Breckinridge, “You have spent a jolly evening.” “I do not -know,” he answered. “I have asked myself more than once to-night, ‘Are -you the same man who stood gazing down on the faces of the dead on that -awful battle-field? The soldiers lying there stare at you with their eyes -wide open. Is this the same world? Here and there?’” - -Last night, the great Kentucky contingent came in a body. Hood brought -Buck in his carriage. She said she “did not like General Hood,” and spoke -with a wild excitement in those soft blue eyes of hers—or, are they -gray or brown? She then gave her reasons in the lowest voice, but loud -and distinct enough for him to hear: “Why? He spoke so harshly to Cy, -his body-servant, as we got out of the carriage. I saw how he hurt Cy’s -feelings, and I tried to soothe Cy’s mortification.” - -“You see, Cy nearly caused me to fall by his awkwardness, and I stormed -at him,” said the General, vastly amused. “I hate a man who speaks -roughly to those who dare not resent it,” said she. The General did own -himself charmed with her sentiments, but seemed to think his wrong-doing -all a good joke. He and Cy understand each other. - -_February 9th._—This party for Johnny was the very nicest I have ever -had, and I mean it to be my last. I sent word to the Carys to bring -their own men. They came alone, saying, “they did not care for men.” -“That means a raid on ours,” growled Isabella. Mr. Lamar was devoted to -Constance Cary. He is a free lance; so that created no heart-burning. - -Afterward, when the whole thing was over, and a success, the lights put -out, etc., here trooped in the four girls, who stayed all night with me. -In dressing-gowns they stirred up a hot fire, relit the gas, and went -in for their supper; _réchauffé_ was the word, oysters, hot coffee, etc. -They kept it up till daylight. - -Of course, we slept very late. As they came in to breakfast, I remarked, -“The church-bells have been going on like mad. I take it as a rebuke to -our breaking the Sabbath. You know Sunday began at twelve o’clock last -night.” “It sounds to me like fire-bells,” somebody said. - -Soon the Infant dashed in, done up in soldier’s clothes: “The Yankees -are upon us!” said he. “Don’t you hear the alarm-bells? They have been -ringing day and night!” Alex Haskell came; he and Johnny went off to -report to Custis Lee and to be enrolled among his “locals,” who are -always detailed for the defense of the city. But this time the attack on -Richmond has proved a false alarm. - -A new trouble at the President’s house: their trusty man, Robert, broken -out with the small-pox. - -We went to the Webb ball, and such a pleasant time we had. After a while -the P. M. G. (Pet Major-General) took his seat in the comfortable chair -next to mine, and declared his determination to hold that position. Mr. -Hunter and Mr. Benjamin essayed to dislodge him. Mrs. Stanard said: “Take -him in the flirtation room; there he will soon be captured and led away,” -but I did not know where that room was situated. Besides, my bold Texan -made a most unexpected sally: “I will not go, and I will prevent her from -going with any of you.” Supper was near at hand, and Mr. Mallory said: -“Ask him if the varioloid is not at his house. I know it is.” I started -as if I were shot, and I took Mr. Clay’s arm and went in to supper, -leaving the P. M. G. to the girls. Venison and everything nice. - -_February 12th._—John Chesnut had a basket of champagne carried to my -house, oysters, partridges, and other good things, for a supper after the -reception. He is going back to the army to-morrow. - -James Chesnut arrived on Wednesday. He has been giving Buck his opinion -of one of her performances last night. She was here, and the General’s -carriage drove up, bringing some of our girls. They told her he could -not come up and he begged she would go down there for a moment. She flew -down, and stood ten minutes in that snow, Cy holding the carriage-door -open. “But, Colonel Chesnut, there was no harm. I was not there ten -minutes. I could not get in the carriage because I did not mean to stay -one minute. He did not hold my hands—that is, not half the time—Oh, you -saw!—well, he did kiss my hands. Where is the harm of that?” All men -worship Buck. How can they help it, she is so lovely. - -Lawrence has gone back ignominiously to South Carolina. At breakfast -already in some inscrutable way he had become intoxicated; he was told to -move a chair, and he raised it high over his head, smashing Mrs. Grundy’s -chandelier. My husband said: “Mary, do tell Lawrence to go home; I am too -angry to speak to him.” So Lawrence went without another word. He will -soon be back, and when he comes will say, “Shoo! I knew Mars Jeems could -not do without me.” And indeed he can not. - -Buck, reading my journal, opened her beautiful eyes in amazement and -said: “So little do people know themselves! See what you say of me!” I -replied: “The girls heard him say to you, ‘Oh, you are so childish and so -sweet!’ Now, Buck, you know you are not childish. You have an abundance -of strong common sense. Don’t let men adore you so—if you can help it. -You are so unhappy about men who care for you, when they are killed.” - -Isabella says that war leads to love-making. She says these soldiers do -more courting here in a day than they would do at home, without a war, in -ten years. - -In the pauses of conversation, we hear, “She is the noblest woman God -ever made!” “Goodness!” exclaims Isabella. “Which one?” The amount of -courting we hear in these small rooms. Men have to go to the front, and -they say their say desperately. I am beginning to know all about it. -The girls tell me. And I overhear—I can not help it. But this style is -unique, is it not? “Since I saw you—last year—standing by the turnpike -gate, you know—my battle-cry has been: ‘God, my country, and you!’” So -many are lame. Major Venable says: “It is not ‘the devil on two sticks,’ -now; the farce is ‘Cupid on Crutches.’” - -General Breckinridge’s voice broke in: “They are my cousins. So I -determined to kiss them good-by. Good-by nowadays is the very devil; -it means forever, in all probability, you know; all the odds against -us. So I advanced to the charge soberly, discreetly, and in the fear of -the Lord. The girls stood in a row—four of the very prettiest I ever -saw.” Sam, with his eyes glued to the floor, cried: “You were afraid—you -backed out.” “But I did nothing of the kind. I kissed every one of them -honestly, heartily.” - -_February 13th._—My husband is writing out some resolutions for the -Congress. He is very busy, too, trying to get some poor fellows -reprieved. He says they are good soldiers but got into a scrape. Buck -came in. She had on her last winter’s English hat, with the pheasant’s -wing. Just then Hood entered most unexpectedly. Said the blunt soldier -to the girl: “You look mighty pretty in that hat; you wore it at the -turnpike gate, where I surrendered at first sight.” She nodded and -smiled, and flew down the steps after Mr. Chesnut, looking back to say -that she meant to walk with him as far as the Executive Office. - -The General walked to the window and watched until the last flutter of -her garment was gone. He said: “The President was finding fault with some -of his officers in command, and I said: ‘Mr. President, why don’t you -come and lead us yourself; I would follow you to the death.’” “Actually, -if you stay here in Richmond much longer you will grow to be a courtier. -And you came a rough Texan.” - -Mrs. Davis and General McQueen came. He tells me Muscoe Garnett is -dead. Then the best and the cleverest Virginian I know is gone. He was -the most scholarly man they had, and his character was higher than his -requirements. - -To-day a terrible onslaught was made upon the President for nepotism. -Burton Harrison’s and John Taylor Wood’s letters denying the charge that -the President’s cotton was unburned, or that he left it to be bought by -the Yankees, have enraged the opposition. How much these people in the -President’s family have to bear! I have never felt so indignant. - -_February 16th._—Saw in Mrs. Howell’s room the little negro Mrs. Davis -rescued yesterday from his brutal negro guardian. The child is an orphan. -He was dressed up in little Joe’s clothes and happy as a lord. He was -very anxious to show me his wounds and bruises, but I fled. There are -some things in life too sickening, and cruelty is one of them. - -Somebody said: “People who knew General Hood before the war said there -was nothing in him. As for losing his property by the war, some say he -never had any, and that West Point is a pauper’s school, after all. He -has only military glory, and that he has gained since the war began.” - -“Now,” said Burton Harrison, “only military glory! I like that! The glory -and the fame he has gained during the war—that is Hood. What was Napoleon -before Toulon? Hood has the impassive dignity of an Indian chief. He has -always a little court around him of devoted friends. Wigfall, himself, -has said he could not get within Hood’s lines.” - -_February 17th._—Found everything in Main Street twenty per cent dearer. -They say it is due to the new currency bill. - -I asked my husband: “Is General Johnston ordered to reenforce Polk? They -said he did not understand the order.” “After five days’ delay,” he -replied. “They say Sherman is marching to Mobile.[113] When they once -get inside of our armies what is to molest them, unless it be women with -broomsticks?” General Johnston writes that “the Governor of Georgia -refuses him provisions and the use of his roads.” The Governor of Georgia -writes: “The roads are open to him and in capital condition. I have -furnished him abundantly with provisions from time to time, as he desired -them.” I suppose both of these letters are placed away side by side in -our archives. - -_February 20th._—Mrs. Preston was offended by the story of Buck’s -performance at the Ive’s. General Breckinridge told her “it was the -most beautifully unconscious act he ever saw.” The General was leaning -against the wall, Buck standing guard by him “on her two feet.” The crowd -surged that way, and she held out her arm to protect him from the rush. -After they had all passed she handed him his crutches, and they, too, -moved slowly away. Mrs. Davis said: “Any woman in Richmond would have -done the same joyfully, but few could do it so gracefully. Buck is made -so conspicuous by her beauty, whatever she does can not fail to attract -attention.” - -Johnny stayed at home only one day; then went to his plantation, got -several thousand Confederate dollars, and in the afternoon drove out with -Mrs. K——. At the Bee Store he spent a thousand of his money; bought us -gloves and linen. Well, one can do without gloves, but linen is next to -life itself. - -Yesterday the President walked home from church with me. He said he was -so glad to see my husband at church; had never seen him there before; -remarked on how well he looked, etc. I replied that he looked so well -“because you have never before seen him in the part of ‘the right man in -the right place.’” My husband has no fancy for being planted in pews, but -he is utterly Christian in his creed. - -_February 23d._—At the President’s, where General Lee breakfasted, a man -named Phelan told General Lee all he ought to do; planned a campaign for -him. General Lee smiled blandly the while, though he did permit himself -a mild sneer at the wise civilians in Congress who refrained from trying -the battle-field in person, but from afar dictated the movements of -armies. My husband said that, to his amazement, General Lee came into his -room at the Executive Office to “pay his respects and have a talk.” “Dear -me! Goodness gracious!” said I. “That was a compliment from the head of -the army, the very first man in the world, we Confederates think.” - -_February 24th._—Friends came to make taffy and stayed the livelong day. -They played cards. One man, a soldier, had only two teeth left in front -and they lapped across each other. On account of the condition of his -mouth, he had maintained a dignified sobriety of aspect, though he told -some funny stories. Finally a story was too much for him, and he grinned -from ear to ear. Maggie gazed, and then called out as the negro fiddlers -call out dancing figures, “Forward two and cross over!” Fancy our faces. -The hero of the two teeth, relapsing into a decorous arrangement of -mouth, said: “Cavalry are the eyes of an army; they bring the news; the -artillery are the boys to make a noise; but the infantry do the fighting, -and a general or so gets all the glory.” - -_February 26th._—We went to see Mrs. Breckinridge, who is here with her -husband. Then we paid our respects to Mrs. Lee. Her room was like an -industrial school: everybody so busy. Her daughters were all there plying -their needles, with several other ladies. Mrs. Lee showed us a beautiful -sword, recently sent to the General by some Marylanders, now in Paris. -On the blade was engraved, “_Aide toi et Dieu t’aidera_.” When we came -out someone said, “Did you see how the Lees spend their time? What a -rebuke to the taffy parties!” - -Another maimed hero is engaged to be married. Sally Hampton has accepted -John Haskell. There is a story that he reported for duty after his arm -was shot off; suppose in the fury of the battle he did not feel the pain. - -General Breckinridge once asked, “What’s the name of the fellow who has -gone to Europe for Hood’s leg?” “Dr. Darby.” “Suppose it is shipwrecked?” -“No matter; half a dozen are ordered.” Mrs. Preston raised her hands: “No -wonder the General says they talk of him as if he were a centipede; his -leg is in everybody’s mouth.” - -_March 3d._—Hetty, the handsome, and Constance, the witty, came; the -former too prudish to read Lost and Saved, by Mrs. Norton, after she had -heard the plot. Conny was making a bonnet for me. Just as she was leaving -the house, her friendly labors over, my husband entered, and quickly -ordered his horse. “It is so near dinner,” I began. “But I am going with -the President. I am on duty. He goes to inspect the fortifications. The -enemy, once more, are within a few miles of Richmond.” Then we prepared a -luncheon for him. Constance Cary remained with me. - -After she left I sat down to Romola, and I was absorbed in it. How -hardened we grow to war and war’s alarms! The enemy’s cannon or our own -are thundering in my ears, and I was dreadfully afraid some infatuated -and frightened friend would come in to cheer, to comfort, and interrupt -me. Am I the same poor soul who fell on her knees and prayed, and wept, -and fainted, as the first gun boomed from Fort Sumter? Once more we have -repulsed the enemy. But it is humiliating, indeed, that he can come and -threaten us at our very gates whenever he so pleases. If a forlorn negro -had not led them astray (and they hanged him for it) on Tuesday night, -unmolested, they would have walked into Richmond. Surely there is horrid -neglect or mismanagement somewhere. - -_March 4th._—The enemy has been reenforced and is on us again. Met Wade -Hampton, who told me my husband was to join him with some volunteer -troops; so I hurried home. Such a cavalcade rode up to luncheon! Captain -Smith Lee and Preston Hampton, the handsomest, the oldest and the -youngest of the party. This was at the Prestons’. Smith Lee walked home -with me; alarm-bells ringing; horsemen galloping; wagons rattling. Dr. -H. stopped us to say “Beast” Butler was on us with sixteen thousand men. -How scared the Doctor looked! And, after all, it was only a notice to the -militia to turn out and drill. - -_March 5th._—Tom Fergurson walked home with me. He told me of Colonel -Dahlgren’s[114] death and the horrid memoranda found in his pocket. He -came with secret orders to destroy this devoted city, hang the President -and his Cabinet, and burn the town! Fitzhugh Lee was proud that the Ninth -Virginia captured him. - -Found Mrs. Semmes covering her lettuces and radishes as calmly as if -Yankee raiders were a myth. While “Beast” Butler holds Fortress Monroe he -will make things lively for us. On the alert must we be now. - -_March 7th._—Shopping, and paid $30 for a pair of gloves; $50 for a -pair of slippers; $24 for six spools of thread; $32 for five miserable, -shabby little pocket handkerchiefs. When I came home found Mrs. Webb. At -her hospital there was a man who had been taken prisoner by Dahlgren’s -party. He saw the negro hanged who had misled them, unintentionally, in -all probability. He saw Dahlgren give a part of his bridle to hang him. -Details are melancholy, as Emerson says. This Dahlgren had also lost a -leg. - -Constance Cary, in words too fine for the occasion, described the homely -scene at my house; how I prepared sandwiches for my husband; and broke, -with trembling hand, the last bottle of anything to drink in the house, a -bottle I destined to go with the sandwiches. She called it a Hector and -Andromache performance. - -_March 8th._—Mrs. Preston’s story. As we walked home, she told me she -had just been to see a lady she had known more than twenty years before. -She had met her in this wise: One of the chambermaids of the St. Charles -Hotel (New Orleans) told Mrs. Preston’s nurse—it was when Mary Preston -was a baby—that up among the servants in the garret there was a sick -lady and her children. The maid was sure she was a lady, and thought she -was hiding from somebody. Mrs. Preston went up, knew the lady, had her -brought down into comfortable rooms, and nursed her until she recovered -from her delirium and fever. She had run away, indeed, and was hiding -herself and her children from a worthless husband. Now, she has one son -in a Yankee prison, one mortally wounded, and the last of them dying -there under her eyes of consumption. This last had married here in -Richmond, not wisely, and too soon, for he was a mere boy; his pay as a -private was eleven dollars a month, and his wife’s family charged him -three hundred dollars a month for her board; so he had to work double -tides, do odd jobs by night and by day, and it killed him by exposure to -cold in this bitter climate to which his constitution was unadapted. - -They had been in Vicksburg during the siege, and during the bombardment -sought refuge in a cave. The roar of the cannon ceasing, they came out -gladly for a breath of fresh air. At the moment when they emerged, a bomb -burst there, among them, so to speak, struck the son already wounded, -and smashed off the arm of a beautiful little grandchild not three years -old. There was this poor little girl with her touchingly lovely face, and -her arm gone. This mutilated little martyr, Mrs. Preston said, was really -to her the crowning touch of the woman’s affliction. Mrs. Preston put up -her hand, “Her baby face haunts me.” - -_March 11th._—Letters from home, including one from my husband’s father, -now over ninety, written with his own hand, and certainly his own mind -still. I quote: “Bad times; worse coming. Starvation stares me in the -face. Neither John’s nor James’s overseer will sell me any corn.” Now, -what has the government to do with the fact that on all his plantations -he made corn enough to last for the whole year, and by the end of January -his negroes had stolen it all? Poor old man, he has fallen on evil days, -after a long life of ease and prosperity. - -To-day, I read The Blithedale Romance. Blithedale leaves such an -unpleasant impression. I like pleasant, kindly stories, now that we are -so harrowed by real life. Tragedy is for our hours of ease. - -_March 12th._—An active campaign has begun everywhere. Kilpatrick still -threatens us. Bragg has organized his fifteen hundred of cavalry to -protect Richmond. Why can’t my husband be made colonel of that? It is a -new regiment. No; he must be made a general! - -“Now,” says Mary Preston, “Doctor Darby is at the mercy of both Yankees -and the rolling sea, and I am anxious enough; but, instead of taking my -bed and worrying mamma, I am taking stock of our worldly goods and trying -to arrange the wedding paraphernalia for two girls.” - -There is love-making and love-making in this world. What a time the -sweethearts of that wretch, young Shakespeare, must have had. What -experiences of life’s delights must have been his before he evolved the -Romeo and Juliet business from his own internal consciousness; also that -delicious Beatrice and Rosalind. The poor creature that he left his -second best bedstead to came in second best all the time, no doubt; and -she hardly deserved more. Fancy people wondering that Shakespeare and -his kind leave no progeny like themselves! Shakespeare’s children would -have been half his only; the other half only the second best bedstead’s. -What would you expect of that commingling of materials? Goethe used his -lady-loves as school-books are used: he studied them from cover to cover, -got all that could be got of self-culture and knowledge of human nature -from the study of them, and then threw them aside as if of no further -account in his life. - -Byron never could forget Lord Byron, poet and peer, and _mauvais sujet_, -and he must have been a trying lover; like talking to a man looking in -the glass at himself. Lady Byron was just as much taken up with herself. -So, they struck each other, and bounded apart. - -[Since I wrote this, Mrs. Stowe has taken Byron in hand. But I know a -story which might have annoyed my lord more than her and Lady Byron’s -imagination of wickedness—for he posed a fiend, but was tender and kind. -A clerk in a country store asked my sister to lend him a book, he “wanted -something to read; the days were so long.” “What style of book would you -prefer?” she said. “Poetry.” “Any particular poet?” “_Brown._ I hear him -much spoken of.” “Brown_ing_?” “No; Brown—short—that is what they call -him.” “Byron, you mean.” “No, I mean the poet, Brown.”] - -“Oh, you wish you had lived in the time of the Shakespeare creature!” -He knew all the forms and phases of true love. Straight to one’s heart -he goes in tragedy or comedy. He never misses fire. He has been there, -in slang phrase. No doubt the man’s bare presence gave pleasure to the -female world; he saw women at their best, and he effaced himself. He told -no tales of his own life. Compare with him old, sad, solemn, sublime, -sneering, snarling, fault-finding Milton, a man whose family doubtless -found “_les absences délicieuses_.” That phrase describes a type of man -at a touch; it took a Frenchwoman to do it. - -“But there is an Italian picture of Milton, taken in his youth, and -he was as beautiful as an angel.” “No doubt. But love flies before -everlasting posing and preaching—the deadly requirement of a man always -to be looked up to—a domestic tyrant, grim, formal, and awfully learned. -Milton was only a mere man, for he could not do without women. When -he tired out the first poor thing, who did not fall down, worship, -and obey him, and see God in him, and she ran away, he immediately -arranged his creed so that he could take another wife; for wife he must -have, _à la_ Mohammedan creed. The deer-stealer never once thought of -justifying theft simply because he loved venison and could not come by it -lawfully. Shakespeare was a better man, or, may I say, a purer soul, than -self-upholding, Calvinistic, Puritanic, king-killing Milton. There is no -muddling of right and wrong in Shakespeare, and no pharisaical stuff of -any sort.” - -Then George Deas joined us, fresh from Mobile, where he left peace and -plenty. He went to sixteen weddings and twenty-seven tea-parties. For -breakfast he had everything nice. Lily told of what she had seen the -day before at the Spottswood. She was in the small parlor, waiting for -someone, and in the large drawing-room sat Hood, solitary, sad, with -crutches by his chair. He could not see them. Mrs. Buckner came in and -her little girl who, when she spied Hood, bounded into the next room, and -sprang into his lap. Hood smoothed her little dress down and held her -close to him. She clung around his neck for a while, and then, seizing -him by the beard, kissed him to an illimitable extent. “Prettiest picture -I ever saw,” said Lily. “The soldier and the child.” - -John R. Thompson sent me a New York Herald only three days old. It is -down on Kilpatrick for his miserable failure before Richmond. Also it -acknowledges a defeat before Charleston and a victory for us in Florida. - -General Grant is charmed with Sherman’s successful movements; says he has -destroyed millions upon millions of our property in Mississippi. I hope -that may not be true, and that Sherman may fail as Kilpatrick did. Now, -if we still had Stonewall or Albert Sidney Johnston where Joe Johnston -and Polk are, I would not give a fig for Sherman’s chances. The Yankees -say that at last they have scared up a man who succeeds, and they expect -him to remedy all that has gone wrong. So they have made their brutal -Suwarrow, Grant, lieutenant-general. - -Doctor —— at the Prestons’ proposed to show me a man who was not an F. F. -V. Until we came here, we had never heard of our social position. We do -not know how to be rude to people who call. To talk of social position -seems vulgar. Down our way, that sort of thing was settled one way or -another beyond a peradventure, like the earth and the sky. We never -gave it a thought. We talked to whom we pleased, and if they were not -_comme il faut_, we were ever so much more polite to the poor things. No -reflection on Virginia. Everybody comes to Richmond. - -Somebody counted fourteen generals in church to-day, and suggested that -less piety and more drilling of commands would suit the times better. -There were Lee, Longstreet, Morgan, Hoke, Clingman, Whiting, Pegram, -Elzey, Gordon, and Bragg. Now, since Dahlgren failed to carry out his -orders, the Yankees disown them, disavowing all. He was not sent here to -murder us all, to hang the President, and burn the town. There is the -note-book, however, at the Executive Office, with orders to hang and burn. - -_March 15th._—Old Mrs. Chesnut is dead. A saint is gone and James Chesnut -is broken-hearted. He adored his mother. I gave $375 for my mourning, -which consists of a black alpaca dress and a crape veil. With bonnet, -gloves, and all it came to $500. Before the blockade such things as I -have would not have been thought fit for a chambermaid. - -Everybody is in trouble. Mrs. Davis says paper money has depreciated so -much in value that they can not live within their income; so they are -going to dispense with their carriage and horses. - -_March 18th._—Went out to sell some of my colored dresses. What a scene -it was—such piles of rubbish, and mixed up with it, such splendid -Parisian silks and satins. A mulatto woman kept the shop under a roof in -an out-of-the-way old house. The _ci-devant_ rich white women sell to, -and the negroes buy of, this woman. - -After some whispering among us Buck said: “Sally is going to marry a man -who has lost an arm, and she is proud of it. The cause glorifies such -wounds.” Annie said meekly, “I fear it will be my fate to marry one who -has lost his head.” “Tudy has her eyes on one who has lost an eye. What a -glorious assortment of noble martyrs and heroes!” “The bitterness of this -kind of talk is appalling.” - -General Lee had tears in his eyes when he spoke of his daughter-in-law -just dead—that lovely little Charlotte Wickham, Mrs. Roony Lee. Roony Lee -says “Beast” Butler was very kind to him while he was a prisoner. The -“Beast” has sent him back his war-horse. The Lees are men enough to speak -the truth of friend or enemy, fearing not the consequences. - -_March 19th._—A new experience: Molly and Lawrence have both gone home, -and I am to be left for the first time in my life wholly at the mercy of -hired servants. Mr. Chesnut, being in such deep mourning for his mother, -we see no company. I have a maid of all work. - -Tudy came with an account of yesterday’s trip to Petersburg. Constance -Cary raved of the golden ripples in Tudy’s hair. Tudy vanished in a halo -of glory, and Constance Cary gave me an account of a wedding, as it -was given to her by Major von Borcke. The bridesmaids were dressed in -black, the bride in Confederate gray, homespun. She had worn the dress -all winter, but it had been washed and turned for the wedding. The female -critics pronounced it “flabby-dabby.” They also said her collar was only -“net,” and she wore a cameo breastpin. Her bonnet was self-made. - -_March 24th._—Yesterday, we went to the Capitol grounds to see our -returned prisoners. We walked slowly up and down until Jeff Davis was -called upon to speak. There I stood, almost touching the bayonets when he -left me. I looked straight into the prisoners’ faces, poor fellows. They -cheered with all their might, and I wept for sympathy, and enthusiasm. -I was very deeply moved. These men were so forlorn, so dried up, and -shrunken, with such a strange look in some of their eyes; others so -restless and wild-looking; others again placidly vacant, as if they had -been dead to the world for years. A poor woman was too much for me. She -was searching for her son. He had been expected back. She said he was -taken prisoner at Gettysburg. She kept going in and out among them with a -basket of provisions she had brought for him to eat. It was too pitiful. -She was utterly unconscious of the crowd. The anxious dread, expectation, -hurry, and hope which led her on showed in her face. - -A sister of Mrs. Lincoln is here. She brings the freshest scandals from -Yankeeland. She says she rode with Lovejoy. A friend of hers commands a -black regiment. Two Southern horrors—a black regiment and Lovejoy. - -_March 31st._—Met Preston Hampton. Constance Cary was with me. She showed -her regard for him by taking his overcoat and leaving him in a drenching -rain. What boyish nonsense he talked; said he was in love with Miss -Dabney now, that his love was so hot within him that he was waterproof, -the rain sizzed and smoked off. It did not so much as dampen his ardor or -his clothes. - -_April 1st._—Mrs. Davis is utterly depressed. She said the fall of -Richmond must come; she would send her children to me and Mrs. Preston. -We begged her to come to us also. My husband is as depressed as I ever -knew him to be. He has felt the death of that angel mother of his keenly, -and now he takes his country’s woes to heart. - -_April 11th._—Drove with Mrs. Davis and all her infant family; -wonderfully clever and precocious children, with unbroken wills. At one -time there was a sudden uprising of the nursery contingent. They laughed, -fought, and screamed. Bedlam broke loose. Mrs. Davis scolded, laughed, -and cried. She asked me if my husband would speak to the President about -the plan in South Carolina, which everybody said suited him. “No, Mrs. -Davis,” said I. “That is what I told Mr. Davis,” said she. “Colonel -Chesnut rides so high a horse. Now Browne is so much more practical. He -goes forth to be general of conscripts in Georgia. His wife will stay at -the Cobbs’s.” - -Mrs. Ould gave me a luncheon on Saturday. I felt that this was my last -sad farewell to Richmond and the people there I love so well. Mrs. Davis -sent her carriage for me, and we went to the Oulds’ together. Such good -things were served—oranges, guava jelly, etc. The Examiner says Mr. -Ould, when he goes to Fortress Monroe, replenishes his larder; why not? -The Examiner has taken another fling at the President, as, “haughty and -austere with his friends, affable, kind, subservient to his enemies.” I -wonder if the Yankees would indorse that certificate. Both sides abuse -him. He can not please anybody, it seems. No doubt he is right. - -My husband is now brigadier-general and is sent to South Carolina to -organize and take command of the reserve troops. C. C. Clay and L. Q. C. -Lamar are both spoken of to fill the vacancy made among Mr. Davis’s aides -by this promotion. - -To-day, Captain Smith Lee spent the morning here and gave a review of -past Washington gossip. I am having such a busy, happy life, with so -many friends, and my friends are so clever, so charming. But the change -to that weary, dreary Camden! Mary Preston said: “I do think Mrs. Chesnut -deserves to be canonized; she agrees to go back to Camden.” The Prestons -gave me a farewell dinner; my twenty-fourth wedding day, and the very -pleasantest day I have spent in Richmond. - -Maria Lewis was sitting with us on Mrs. Huger’s steps, and Smith Lee -was lauding Virginia people as usual. As Lee would say, there “hove in -sight” Frank Parker, riding one of the finest of General Bragg’s horses; -by his side Buck on Fairfax, the most beautiful horse in Richmond, his -brown coat looking like satin, his proud neck arched, moving slowly, -gracefully, calmly, no fidgets, aristocratic in his bearing to the -tips of his bridle-reins. There sat Buck tall and fair, managing her -horse with infinite ease, her English riding-habit showing plainly the -exquisite proportions of her figure. “Supremely lovely,” said Smith -Lee. “Look at them both,” said I proudly; “can you match those two in -Virginia?” “Three cheers for South Carolina!” was the answer of Lee, the -gallant Virginia sailor. - - - - -XVII - -CAMDEN, S. C. - -_May 8, 1864-June 1, 1864_ - - -Camden, S. C., _May 8, 1864_.—My friends crowded around me so in those -last days in Richmond, I forgot the affairs of this nation utterly; -though I did show faith in my Confederate country by buying poor Bones’s -(my English maid’s) Confederate bonds. I gave her gold thimbles, -bracelets; whatever was gold and would sell in New York or London, I gave. - -My friends in Richmond grieved that I had to leave them—not half so -much, however, as I did that I must come away. Those last weeks were so -pleasant. No battle, no murder, no sudden death, all went merry as a -marriage bell. Clever, cordial, kind, brave friends rallied around me. - -Maggie Howell and I went down the river to see an exchange of prisoners. -Our party were the Lees, Mallorys, Mrs. Buck Allan, Mrs. Ould. We picked -up Judge Ould and Buck Allan at Curl’s Neck. I had seen no genuine -Yankees before; prisoners, well or wounded, had been German, Scotch, or -Irish. Among our men coming ashore was an officer, who had charge of -some letters for a friend of mine whose _fiancé_ had died; I gave him -her address. One other man showed me some wonderfully ingenious things -he had made while a prisoner. One said they gave him rations for a week; -he always devoured them in three days, he could not help it; and then -he had to bear the inevitable agony of those four remaining days! Many -were wounded, some were maimed for life. They were very cheerful. We had -supper—or some nondescript meal—with ice-cream on board. The band played -Home, Sweet Home. - -One man tapped another on the shoulder: “Well, how do you feel, old -fellow?” “Never was so near crying in my life—for very comfort.” - -Governor Cummings, a Georgian, late Governor of Utah, was among the -returned prisoners. He had been in prison two years. His wife was with -him. He was a striking-looking person, huge in size, and with snow-white -hair, fat as a prize ox, with no sign of Yankee barbarity or starvation -about him. - -That evening, as we walked up to Mrs. Davis’s carriage, which was waiting -for us at the landing, Dr. Garnett with Maggie Howell, Major Hall with -me, suddenly I heard her scream, and some one stepped back in the dark -and said in a whisper. “Little Joe! he has killed himself!” I felt -reeling, faint, bewildered. A chattering woman clutched my arm: “Mrs. -Davis’s son? Impossible. Whom did you say? Was he an interesting child? -How old was he?” The shock was terrible, and unnerved as I was I cried, -“For God’s sake take her away!” - -Then Maggie and I drove two long miles in silence except for Maggie’s -hysterical sobs. She was wild with terror. The news was broken to her in -that abrupt way at the carriage door so that at first she thought it had -all happened there, and that poor little Joe was in the carriage. - -Mr. Burton Harrison met us at the door of the Executive Mansion. Mrs. -Semmes and Mrs. Barksdale were there, too. Every window and door of the -house seemed wide open, and the wind was blowing the curtains. It was -lighted, even in the third story. As I sat in the drawing-room, I could -hear the tramp of Mr. Davis’s step as he walked up and down the room -above. Not another sound. The whole house as silent as death. It was then -twelve o’clock; so I went home and waked General Chesnut, who had gone -to bed. We went immediately back to the President’s, found Mrs. Semmes -still there, but saw no one but her. We thought some friends of the -family ought to be in the house. - -Mrs. Semmes said when she got there that little Jeff was kneeling down by -his brother, and he called out to her in great distress: “Mrs. Semmes, I -have said all the prayers I know how, but God will not wake Joe.” - -Poor little Joe, the good child of the family, was so gentle and -affectionate. He used to run in to say his prayers at his father’s knee. -Now he was laid out somewhere above us, crushed and killed. Mrs. Semmes, -describing the accident, said he fell from the high north piazza upon a -brick pavement. Before I left the house I saw him lying there, white and -beautiful as an angel, covered with flowers; Catherine, his nurse, flat -on the floor by his side, was weeping and wailing as only an Irishwoman -can. - -Immense crowds came to the funeral, everybody sympathetic, but some -shoving and pushing rudely. There were thousands of children, and -each child had a green bough or a bunch of flowers to throw on little -Joe’s grave, which was already a mass of white flowers, crosses, and -evergreens. The morning I came away from Mrs. Davis’s, early as it was, -I met a little child with a handful of snow drops. “Put these on little -Joe,” she said; “I knew him so well,” and then she turned and fled -without another word. I did not know who she was then or now. - -As I walked home I met Mr. Reagan, then Wade Hampton. But I could see -nothing but little Joe and his broken-hearted mother. And Mr. Davis’s -step still sounded in my ears as he walked that floor the livelong night. - -General Lee was to have a grand review the very day we left Richmond. -Great numbers of people were to go up by rail to see it. Miss Turner -McFarland writes: “They did go, but they came back faster than they went. -They found the army drawn up in battle array.” Many of the brave and gay -spirits that we saw so lately have taken flight, the only flight they -know, and their bodies are left dead upon the battle-field. Poor old -Edward Johnston is wounded again, and a prisoner. Jones’s brigade broke -first; he was wounded the day before. - -At Wilmington we met General Whiting. He sent us to the station in his -carriage, and bestowed upon us a bottle of brandy, which had run the -blockade. They say Beauregard has taken his sword from Whiting. Never! I -will not believe it. At the capture of Fort Sumter they said Whiting was -the brains, Beauregard only the hand. Lucifer, son of the morning! How -art thou fallen! That they should even say such a thing! - -My husband and Mr. Covey got out at Florence to procure for Mrs. Miles -a cup of coffee. They were slow about it and they got left. I did not -mind this so very much, for I remembered that we were to remain all day -at Kingsville, and that my husband could overtake me there by the next -train. My maid belonged to the Prestons. She was only traveling home with -me, and would go straight on to Columbia. So without fear I stepped off -at Kingsville. My old Confederate silk, like most Confederate dresses, -had seen better days, and I noticed that, like Oliver Wendell Holmes’s -famous “one-hoss shay,” it had gone to pieces suddenly, and all over. -It was literally in strips. I became painfully aware of my forlorn -aspect when I asked the telegraph man the way to the hotel, and he was -by no means respectful to me. I was, indeed, alone—an old and not too -respectable-looking woman. It was my first appearance in the character, -and I laughed aloud. - -A very haughty and highly painted dame greeted me at the hotel. “No -room,” said she. “Who are you?” I gave my name. “Try something else,” -said she. “Mrs. Chesnut don’t travel round by herself with no servants -and no nothing.” I looked down. There I was, dirty, tired, tattered, and -torn. “Where do you come from?” said she. “My home is in Camden.” “Come, -now, I know everybody in Camden.” I sat down meekly on a bench in the -piazza, that was free to all wayfarers. - -“Which Mrs. Chesnut?” said she (sharply). “I know both.” “I am now the -only one. And now what is the matter with you? Do you take me for a spy? -I know you perfectly well. I went to school with you at Miss Henrietta de -Leon’s, and my name was Mary Miller.” “The Lord sakes alive! and to think -you are her! Now I see. Dear! dear me! Heaven sakes, woman, but you are -broke!” “And tore,” I added, holding up my dress. “But I had had no idea -it was so difficult to effect an entry into a railroad wayside hotel.” I -picked up a long strip of my old black dress, torn off by a man’s spur as -I passed him getting off the train. - -It is sad enough at Mulberry without old Mrs. Chesnut, who was the good -genius of the place. It is so lovely here in spring. The giants of the -forest—the primeval oaks, water-oaks, live-oaks, willow-oaks, such as I -have not seen since I left here—with opopanax, violets, roses, and yellow -jessamine, the air is laden with perfume. Araby the Blest was never -sweeter. - -Inside, are creature comforts of all kinds—green peas, strawberries, -asparagus, spring lamb, spring chicken, fresh eggs, rich, yellow butter, -clean white linen for one’s beds, dazzling white damask for one’s table. -It is such a contrast to Richmond, where I wish I were. - -Fighting is going on. Hampton is frantic, for his laggard new regiments -fall in slowly; no fault of the soldiers; they are as disgusted as he is. -Bragg, Bragg, the head of the War Office, can not organize in time. - -John Boykin has died in a Yankee prison. He had on a heavy flannel shirt -when lying in an open platform car on the way to a cold prison on the -lakes. A Federal soldier wanted John’s shirt. Prisoners have no rights; -so John had to strip off and hand his shirt to him. That caused his -death. In two days he was dead of pneumonia—may be frozen to death. One -man said: “They are taking us there to freeze.” But then their men will -find our hot sun in August and July as deadly as our men find their cold -Decembers. Their snow and ice finish our prisoners at a rapid rate, they -say. Napoleon’s soldiers found out all that in the Russian campaign. - -Have brought my houseless, homeless friends, refugees here, to luxuriate -in Mulberry’s plenty. I can but remember the lavish kindness of the -Virginia people when I was there and in a similar condition. The Virginia -people do the rarest acts of hospitality and never seem to know it is not -in the ordinary course of events. - -The President’s man, Stephen, bringing his master’s Arabian to Mulberry -for safe-keeping, said: “Why, Missis, your niggers down here are well -off. I call this Mulberry place heaven, with plenty to eat, little to do, -warm house to sleep in, a good church.” - -John L. Miller, my cousin, has been killed at the head of his regiment. -The blows now fall so fast on our heads they are bewildering. The -Secretary of War authorizes General Chesnut to reorganize the men who -have been hitherto detailed for special duty, and also those who have -been exempt. He says General Chesnut originated the plan and organized -the corps of clerks which saved Richmond in the Dahlgren raid. - -_May 27th._—In all this beautiful sunshine, in the stillness and shade of -these long hours on this piazza, all comes back to me about little Joe; -it haunts me—that scene in Richmond where all seemed confusion, madness, -a bad dream! Here I see that funeral procession as it wound among those -tall white monuments, up that hillside, the James River tumbling about -below over rocks and around islands; the dominant figure, that poor, old, -gray-haired man, standing bareheaded, straight as an arrow, clear against -the sky by the open grave of his son. She, the bereft mother, stood -back, in her heavy black wrappings, and her tall figure drooped. The -flowers, the children, the procession as it moved, comes and goes, but -those two dark, sorrow-stricken figures stand; they are before me now! - -That night, with no sound but the heavy tramp of his feet overhead, the -curtains flapping in the wind, the gas flaring, I was numb, stupid, -half-dead with grief and terror. Then came Catherine’s Irish howl. Cheap, -was that. Where was she when it all happened? Her place was to have -been with the child. Who saw him fall? Whom will they kill next of that -devoted household? - -Read to-day the list of killed and wounded.[115] One long column was not -enough for South Carolina’s dead. I see Mr. Federal Secretary Stanton -says he can reenforce Suwarrow Grant at his leisure whenever he calls -for more. He has just sent him 25,000 veterans. Old Lincoln says, in his -quaint backwoods way, “Keep a-peggin’.” Now we can only peg out. What -have we left of men, etc., to meet these “reenforcements as often as -reenforcements are called for?” Our fighting men have all gone to the -front; only old men and little boys are at home now. - -It is impossible to sleep here, because it is so solemn and still. -The moonlight shines in my window sad and white, and the soft south -wind, literally comes over a bank of violets, lilacs, roses, with -orange-blossoms and magnolia flowers. - -[Illustration: MRS. JAMES CHESNUT, SR. - -From a Portrait in Oil by Gilbert Stuart.] - -Mrs. Chesnut was only a year younger than her husband. He is ninety-two -or three. She was deaf; but he retains his senses wonderfully for his -great age. I have always been an early riser. Formerly I often saw him -sauntering slowly down the broad passage from his room to hers, in a -flowing flannel dressing-gown when it was winter. In the spring he was -apt to be in shirt-sleeves, with suspenders hanging down his back. He had -always a large hair-brush in his hand. - -He would take his stand on the rug before the fire in her room, brushing -scant locks which were fleecy white. Her maid would be doing hers, which -were dead-leaf brown, not a white hair in her head. He had the voice of a -stentor, and there he stood roaring his morning compliments. The people -who occupied the room above said he fairly shook the window glasses. This -pleasant morning greeting ceremony was never omitted. - -Her voice was “soft and low” (the oft-quoted). Philadelphia seems to -have lost the art of sending forth such voices now. Mrs. Binney, old -Mrs. Chesnut’s sister, came among us with the same softly modulated, -womanly, musical voice. Her clever and beautiful daughters were _criard_. -Judge Han said: “Philadelphia women scream like macaws.” This morning -as I passed Mrs. Chesnut’s room, the door stood wide open, and I heard -a pitiful sound. The old man was kneeling by her empty bedside sobbing -bitterly. I fled down the middle walk, anywhere out of reach of what was -never meant for me to hear. - -_June 1st._—We have been to Bloomsbury again and hear that William -Kirkland has been wounded. A scene occurred then, Mary weeping bitterly -and Aunt B. frantic as to Tanny’s danger. I proposed to make arrangements -for Mary to go on at once. The Judge took me aside, frowning angrily. -“You are unwise to talk in that way. She can neither take her infant -nor leave it. The cars are closed by order of the government to all but -soldiers.” - -I told him of the woman who, when the conductor said she could not go, -cried at the top of her voice, “Soldiers, I want to go to Richmond to -nurse my wounded husband.” In a moment twenty men made themselves her -body-guard, and she went on unmolested. The Judge said I talked nonsense. -I said I would go on in my carriage if need be. Besides, there would be -no difficulty in getting Mary a “permit.” - -He answered hotly that in no case would he let her go, and that I had -better _not_ go back into the house. We were on the piazza and my -carriage at the door. I took it and crossed over to see Mary Boykin. She -was weeping, too, so washed away with tears one would hardly know her. -“So many killed. My son and my husband—I do not hear a word from them.” - -Gave to-day for two pounds of tea, forty pounds of coffee, and sixty -pounds of sugar, $800. - -Beauregard is a gentleman and was a genius as long as Whiting did his -engineering for him. Our Creole general is not quite so clever as he -thinks himself. - -Mary Ford writes for school-books for her boys. She is in great distress -on the subject. When Longstreet’s corps passed through Greenville there -was great enthusiasm; handkerchiefs were waved, bouquets and flowers were -thrown the troops; her boys, having nothing else to throw, threw their -school-books. - - - - -XVIII - -COLUMBIA, S. C. - -_July 6, 1864-January 17, 1865_ - - -Columbia, S, C., _July 6, 1864_.—At the Prestons’ Mary was laughing at -Mrs. Lyons’s complaint—the person from whom we rented rooms in Richmond. -She spoke of Molly and Lawrence’s deceitfulness. They went about the -house quiet as mice while we were at home; or Lawrence sat at the door -and sprang to his feet whenever we passed. But when we were out, they -sang, laughed, shouted, and danced. If any of the Lyons family passed -him, Lawrence kept his seat, with his hat on, too. Mrs. Chesnut had said: -“Oh!” so meekly to the whole tirade, and added, “I will see about it.” - -Colonel Urquhart and Edmund Rhett dined here; charming men both—no brag, -no detraction. Talk is never pleasant where there is either. Our noble -Georgian dined here. He says Hampton was the hero of the Yankee rout at -Stony Creek.[116] He claims that citizens, militia, and lame soldiers -kept the bridge at Staunton and gallantly repulsed Wilson’s raiders. - -At Mrs. S.’s last night. She came up, saying, “In New Orleans four people -never met together without dancing.” Edmund Rhett turned to me: “You -shall be pressed into service.” “No, I belong to the reserve corps—too -old to volunteer or to be drafted as a conscript.” But I had to go. - -My partner in the dance showed his English descent; he took his pleasure -sadly. “Oh, Mr. Rhett, at his pleasure, can be a most agreeable -companion!” said someone. “I never happened to meet him,” said I, “when -he pleased to be otherwise.” With a hot, draggled, old alpaca dress, and -those clod-hopping shoes, to tumble slowly and gracefully through the -mazes of a July dance was too much for me. “What depresses you so?” he -anxiously inquired. “Our carnival of death.” What a blunder to bring us -all together here!—a reunion of consumptives to dance and sing until one -can almost hear the death-rattle! - -[Illustration: MRS. CHESNUT’S HOME IN COLUMBIA IN THE LAST YEAR OF THE -WAR. - -Here Mrs. Chesnut entertained Jefferson Davis.] - -_July 25th._—Now we are in a cottage rented from Doctor Chisolm. Hood -is a full general. Johnston[117] has been removed and superseded. Early -is threatening Washington City. Semmes, of whom we have been so proud, -risked the Alabama in a sort of duel of ships. He has lowered the flag of -the famous Alabama to the Kearsarge.[118] Forgive who may! I can not. We -moved into this house on the 20th of July. My husband was telegraphed to -go to Charleston. General Jones sent for him. A part of his command is on -the coast. - -The girls were at my house. Everything was in the utmost confusion. We -were lying on a pile of mattresses in one of the front rooms while the -servants were reducing things to order in the rear. All the papers are -down on the President for this change of commanders except the Georgia -papers. Indeed, Governor Brown’s constant complaints, I dare say, caused -it—these and the rage of the Georgia people as Johnston backed down on -them. - -Isabella soon came. She said she saw the Preston sisters pass her house, -and as they turned the corner there was a loud and bitter cry. It seemed -to come from the Hampton house. Both girls began to run at full speed. -“What is the matter?” asked Mrs. Martin. “Mother, listen; that sounded -like the cry of a broken heart,” said Isabella; “something has gone -terribly wrong at the Prestons’.” - -Mrs. Martin is deaf, however, so she heard nothing and thought Isabella -fanciful. Isabella hurried over there, and learned that they had come to -tell Mrs. Preston that Willie was killed—Willie! his mother’s darling. -No country ever had a braver soldier, a truer gentleman, to lay down his -life in her cause. - -_July 26th._—Isabella went with me to the bulletin-board. Mrs. D. (with -the white linen as usual pasted on her chin) asked me to read aloud what -was there written. As I slowly read on, I heard a suppressed giggle -from Isabella. I know her way of laughing at everything, and tried to -enunciate more distinctly—to read more slowly, and louder, with more -precision. As I finished and turned round, I found myself closely packed -in by a crowd of Confederate soldiers eager to hear the news. They took -off their caps, thanked me for reading all that was on the boards, and -made way for me, cap in hand, as I hastily returned to the carriage, -which was waiting for us. Isabella proposed, “Call out to them to give -three cheers for Jeff Davis and his generals.” “You forget, my child, -that we are on our way to a funeral.” - -Found my new house already open hospitably to all comers. My husband -had arrived. He was seated at a pine table, on which someone had put -a coarse, red table-cover, and by the light of one tallow candle was -affably entertaining Edward Barnwell, Isaac Hayne, and Uncle Hamilton. -He had given them no tea, however. After I had remedied that oversight, -we adjourned to the moonlighted piazza. By tallow-candle-light and the -light of the moon, we made out that wonderful smile of Teddy’s, which -identifies him as Gerald Grey. - -We have laughed so at broken hearts—the broken hearts of the foolish love -stories. But Buck, now, is breaking her heart for her brother Willie. -Hearts do break in silence, without a word or a sigh. Mrs. Means and Mary -Barnwell made no moan—simply turned their faces to the wall and died. How -many more that we know nothing of! - -When I remember all the true-hearted, the light-hearted, the gay and -gallant boys who have come laughing, singing, and dancing in my way -in the three years now past; how I have looked into their brave young -eyes and helped them as I could in every way and then saw them no more -forever; how they lie stark and cold, dead upon the battle-field, or -moldering away in hospitals or prisons, which is worse—I think if I -consider the long array of those bright youths and loyal men who have -gone to their death almost before my very eyes, my heart might break, -too. Is anything worth it—this fearful sacrifice, this awful penalty we -pay for war? - -Allen G. says Johnston was a failure. Now he will wait and see what Hood -can do before he pronounces judgment on him. He liked his address to his -army. It was grand and inspiring, but every one knows a general has not -time to write these things himself. Mr. Kelly, from New Orleans, says -Dick Taylor and Kirby Smith have quarreled. One would think we had a big -enough quarrel on hand for one while already. The Yankees are enough and -to spare. General Lovell says, “Joe Brown, with his Georgians at his -back, who importuned our government to remove Joe Johnston, they are -scared now, and wish they had not.” - -In our democratic Republic, if one rises to be its head, whomever he -displeases takes a Turkish revenge and defiles the tombs of his father -and mother; hints that his father was a horse-thief and his mother no -better than she should be; his sisters barmaids and worse, his brothers -Yankee turncoats and traitors. All this is hurled at Lincoln or Jeff -Davis indiscriminately. - -_August 2d._—Sherman again. Artillery parked and a line of battle formed -before Atlanta. When we asked Brewster what Sam meant to do at Atlanta he -answered, “Oh—oh, like the man who went, he says he means to stay there!” -Hope he may, that’s all. - -Spent to-day with Mrs. McCord at her hospital. She is dedicating her -grief for her son, sanctifying it, one might say, by giving up her soul -and body, her days and nights, to the wounded soldiers at her hospital. -Every moment of her time is surrendered to their needs. - -To-day General Taliaferro dined with us. He served with Hood at the -second battle of Manassas and at Fredericksburg, where Hood won his -major-general’s spurs. On the battle-field, Hood, he said, “has military -inspiration.” We were thankful for that word. All now depends on that -army at Atlanta. If that fails us, the game is up. - -_August 3d._—Yesterday was such a lucky day for my housekeeping in our -hired house. Oh, ye kind Columbia folk! Mrs. Alex Taylor, _née_ Hayne, -sent me a huge bowl of yellow butter and a basket to match of every -vegetable in season. Mrs. Preston’s man came with mushrooms freshly cut -and Mrs. Tom Taylor’s with fine melons. - -Sent Smith and Johnson (my house servant and a carpenter from home, -respectively) to the Commissary’s with our wagon for supplies. They made -a mistake, so they said, and went to the depot instead, and stayed there -all day. I needed a servant sadly in many ways all day long, but I hope -Smith and Johnson had a good time. I did not lose patience until Harriet -came in an omnibus because I had neither servants nor horse to send to -the station for her. - -Stephen Elliott is wounded, and his wife and father have gone to him. -Six hundred of his men were destroyed in a mine; and part of his brigade -taken prisoners: Stoneman and his raiders have been captured. This last -fact gives a slightly different hue to our horizon of unmitigated misery. - -General L—— told us of an unpleasant scene at the President’s last -winter. He called there to see Mrs. McLean. Mrs. Davis was in the room -and he did not speak to her. He did not intend to be rude; it was merely -an oversight. And so he called again and tried to apologize, to remedy -his blunder, but the President was inexorable, and would not receive his -overtures of peace and good-will. General L—— is a New York man. Talk of -the savagery of slavery, heavens! How perfect are our men’s manners down -here, how suave, how polished are they. Fancy one of them forgetting to -speak to Mrs. Davis in her own drawing-room. - -_August 6th._—Archer came, a classmate of my husband’s at Princeton; -they called him Sally Archer then, he was so girlish and pretty. No -trace of feminine beauty about this grim soldier now. He has a hard -face, black-bearded and sallow, with the saddest black eyes. His hands -are small, white, and well-shaped; his manners quiet. He is abstracted -and weary-looking, his mind and body having been deadened by long -imprisonment. He seemed glad to be here, and James Chesnut was charmed. -“Dear Sally Archer,” he calls him cheerily, and the other responds in a -far-off, faded kind of way. - -Hood and Archer were given the two Texas regiments at the beginning of -the war. They were colonels and Wigfall was their general. Archer’s -comments on Hood are: “He does not compare intellectually with General -Johnston, who is decidedly a man of culture and literary attainments, -with much experience in military matters. Hood, however, has youth and -energy to help counterbalance all this. He has a simple-minded directness -of purpose always. He is awfully shy, and he has suffered terribly, but -then he has had consolations—such a rapid rise in his profession, and -then his luck to be engaged to the beautiful Miss ——.” - -They tried Archer again and again on the heated controversy of the day, -but he stuck to his text. Joe Johnston is a fine military critic, a -capital writer, an accomplished soldier, as brave as Cæsar in his own -person, but cautious to a fault in manipulating an army. Hood has all the -dash and fire of a reckless young soldier, and his Texans would follow -him to the death. Too much caution might be followed easily by too much -headlong rush. That is where the swing-back of the pendulum might ruin us. - -_August 10th._—To-day General Chesnut and his staff departed. His troops -are ordered to look after the mountain passes beyond Greenville on the -North Carolina and Tennessee quarter. - -Misery upon misery. Mobile[119] is going as New Orleans went. Those -Western men have not held their towns as we held and hold Charleston, -or as the Virginians hold Richmond. And they call us a “frill-shirt, -silk-stocking chivalry,” or “a set of dandy Miss Nancys.” They fight -desperately in their bloody street brawls, but we bear privation and -discipline best. - -_August 14th._—We have conflicting testimony. Young Wade Hampton, of -Joe Johnston’s staff, says Hood lost 12,000 men in the battles of the -22d[120] and 24th, but Brewster, of Hood’s staff, says not three thousand -at the utmost. Now here are two people strictly truthful, who tell things -so differently. In this war people see the same things so oddly one does -not know what to believe. - -Brewster says when he was in Richmond Mr. Davis said Johnston would have -to be removed and Sherman blocked. He could not make Hardee full general -because, when he had command of an army he was always importuning the War -Department for a general-in-chief to be sent there over him. Polk would -not do, brave soldier and patriot as he was. He was a good soldier, and -would do his best for his country, and do his duty under whomever was put -over him by those in authority. Mr. Davis did not once intimate to him -who it was that he intended to promote to the head of the Western Army. - -Brewster said to-day that this “blow at Joe Johnston, cutting off his -head, ruins the schemes of the enemies of the government. Wigfall asked -me to go at once, and get Hood to decline to take this command, for it -will destroy him if he accepts it. He will have to fight under Jeff -Davis’s orders; no one can do that now and not lose caste in the Western -Army. Joe Johnston does not exactly say that Jeff Davis betrays his plans -to the enemy, but he says he dares not let the President know his plans, -as there is a spy in the War Office who invariably warns the Yankees in -time. Consulting the government on military movements is played out. -That’s Wigfall’s way of talking. Now,” added Brewster, “I blame the -President for keeping a man at the head of his armies who treats the -government with open scorn and contumely, no matter how the people at -large rate this disrespectful general.” - -_August 19th._—Began my regular attendance on the Wayside Hospital. -To-day we gave wounded men, as they stopped for an hour at the station, -their breakfast. Those who are able to come to the table do so. The badly -wounded remain in wards prepared for them, where their wounds are dressed -by nurses and surgeons, and we take bread and butter, beef, ham, and hot -coffee to them. - -One man had hair as long as a woman’s, the result of a vow, he said. He -had pledged himself not to cut his hair until peace was declared and our -Southern country free. Four made this vow together. All were dead but -himself. One was killed in Missouri, one in Virginia, and he left one at -Kennesaw Mountain. This poor creature had had one arm taken off at the -socket. When I remarked that he was utterly disabled and ought not to -remain in the army, he answered quietly, “I am of the First Texas. If old -Hood can go with one foot, I can go with one arm, eh?” - -How they quarreled and wrangled among themselves—Alabama and Mississippi, -all were loud for Joe Johnston, save and except the long-haired, -one-armed hero, who cried at the top of his voice: “Oh! you all want to -be kept in trenches and to go on retreating, eh?” “Oh, if we had had a -leader, such as Stonewall, this war would have been over long ago! What -we want is a leader!” shouted a cripple. - -They were awfully smashed-up, objects of misery, wounded, maimed, -diseased. I was really upset, and came home ill. This kind of thing -unnerves me quite. - -Letters from the army. Grant’s dogged stay about Richmond is very -disgusting and depressing to the spirits. Wade Hampton has been put in -command of the Southern cavalry. - -A Wayside incident. A pine box, covered with flowers, was carefully put -upon the train by some gentlemen. Isabella asked whose remains were in -the box. Dr. Gibbes replied: “In that box lies the body of a young man -whose family antedates the Bourbons of France. He was the last Count -de Choiseul, and he has died for the South.” Let his memory be held in -perpetual remembrance by all who love the South! - -_August 22d._—Hope I may never know a raid except from hearsay. Mrs. -Huger describes the one at Athens. The proudest and most timid of women -were running madly in the streets, corsets in one hand, stockings in -the other—_déshabillé_ as far as it will go. Mobile is half taken. The -railroad between us and Richmond has been tapped. - -Notes from a letter written by a young lady who is riding a high horse. -Her _fiancé_, a maimed hero, has been abused. “You say to me with a -sneer, ‘So you love that man.’ Yes, I do, and I thank God that I love -better than all the world the man who is to be my husband. ‘Proud of -him, are you?’ Yes, I am, in exact proportion to my love. You say, ‘I am -selfish.’ Yes, I am selfish. He is my second self, so utterly absorbed -am I in him. There is not a moment, day or night, that I do not think -of him. In point of fact, I do not think of anything else.” No reply -was deemed necessary by the astounded recipient of this outburst of -indignation, who showed me the letter and continued to observe: “Did you -ever? She seems so shy, so timid, so cold.” - -Sunday Isabella took us to a chapel, Methodist, of course; her father had -a hand in building it. It was not clean, but it was crowded, hot, and -stuffy. An eloquent man preached with a delightful voice and wonderful -fluency; nearly eloquent, and at times nearly ridiculous. He described a -scene during one of his sermons when “beautiful young faces were turned -up to me, radiant faces though bathed in tears, moral rainbows of emotion -playing over them,” etc. - -He then described his own conversion, and stripped himself naked morally. -All that is very revolting to one’s innate sense of decency. He tackled -the patriarchs. Adam, Noah, and so on down to Joseph, who was “a man -whose modesty and purity were so transcendent they enabled him to resist -the greatest temptation to which fallen man is exposed.” “Fiddlesticks! -that is played out!” my neighbor whispered. “Everybody gives up now that -old Mrs. Pharaoh was forty.” “Mrs. Potiphar, you goose, and she was -fifty!” “That solves the riddle.” “Sh-sh!” from the devout Isabella. - -At home met General Preston on the piazza. He was vastly entertaining. -Gave us Darwin, Herodotus, and Livy. We understood him and were -delighted, but we did not know enough to be sure when it was his own -wisdom or when wise saws and cheering words came from the authors of whom -he spoke. - -_August 23d._—All in a muddle, and yet the news, confused as it is, seems -good from all quarters. There is a row in New Orleans. Memphis[121] has -been retaken; 2,000 prisoners have been captured at Petersburg, and a -Yankee raid on Macon has come to grief. - -At Mrs. Izard’s met a clever Mrs. Calhoun. Mrs. Calhoun is a violent -partizan of Dick Taylor; says Taylor does the work and Kirby Smith -gets the credit for it. Mrs. Calhoun described the behavior of some -acquaintance of theirs at Shreveport, one of that kind whose faith -removes mountains. Her love for and confidence in the Confederate army -were supreme. Why not? She knew so many of the men who composed that -dauntless band. When her husband told her New Orleans had surrendered to -a foe whom she despised, she did not believe a word of it. He told her -to “pack up his traps, as it was time for him to leave Shreveport.” She -then determined to run down to the levee and see for herself, only to -find the Yankee gunboats having it all their own way. She made a painful -exhibition of herself. First, she fell on her knees and prayed; then she -got up and danced with rage; then she raved and dashed herself on the -ground in a fit. There was patriotism run mad for you! As I did not know -the poor soul, Mrs. Calhoun’s fine acting was somewhat lost on me, but -the others enjoyed it. - -Old Edward Johnston has been sent to Atlanta against his will, and Archer -has been made major-general and, contrary to his earnest request, ordered -not to his beloved Texans but to the Army of the Potomac. - -Mr. C. F. Hampton deplores the untimely end of McPherson.[122] He was so -kind to Mr. Hampton at Vicksburg last winter, and drank General Hampton’s -health then and there. Mr. Hampton has asked Brewster, if the report of -his death prove a mistake, and General McPherson is a prisoner, that -every kindness and attention be shown to him. General McPherson said at -his own table at Vicksburg that General Hampton was the ablest general on -our side. - -Grant can hold his own as well as Sherman. Lee has a heavy handful in the -new Suwarrow. He has worse odds than any one else, for when Grant has -ten thousand slain, he has only to order another ten thousand, and they -are there, ready to step out to the front. They are like the leaves of -Vallambrosa. - -_August 29th._—I take my hospital duty in the morning. Most persons -prefer afternoon, but I dislike to give up my pleasant evenings. So I get -up at five o’clock and go down in my carriage all laden with provisions. -Mrs. Fisher and old Mr. Bryan generally go with me. Provisions are -commonly sent by people to Mrs. Fisher’s. I am so glad to be a hospital -nurse once more. I had excuses enough, but at heart I felt a coward and -a skulker. I think I know how men feel who hire a substitute and shirk -the fight. There must be no dodging of duty. It will not do now to send -provisions and pay for nurses. Something inside of me kept calling out, -“Go, you shabby creature; you can’t bear to see what those fine fellows -have to bear.” - -Mrs. Izard was staying with me last night, and as I slipped away I begged -Molly to keep everything dead still and not let Mrs. Izard be disturbed -until I got home. About ten I drove up and there was a row to wake the -dead. Molly’s eldest daughter, who nurses her baby sister, let the baby -fall, and, regardless of Mrs. Izard, as I was away, Molly was giving the -nurse a switching in the yard, accompanied by howls and yells worthy of -a Comanche! The small nurse welcomed my advent, no doubt, for in two -seconds peace was restored. Mrs. Izard said she sympathized with the -baby’s mother; so I forgave the uproar. - -I have excellent servants; no matter for their shortcomings behind my -back. They save me all thought as to household matters, and they are so -kind, attentive, and quiet. They must know what is at hand if Sherman is -not hindered from coming here—“Freedom! my masters!” But these sphinxes -give no sign, unless it be increased diligence and absolute silence, as -certain in their action and as noiseless as a law of nature, at any rate -when we are in the house. - -That fearful hospital haunts me all day long, and is worse at night. -So much suffering, such loathsome wounds, such distortion, with stumps -of limbs not half cured, exhibited to all. Then, when I was so tired -yesterday, Molly was looking more like an enraged lioness than anything -else, roaring that her baby’s neck was broken, and howling cries of -vengeance. The poor little careless nurse’s dark face had an ashen tinge -of gray terror. She was crouching near the ground like an animal trying -to hide, and her mother striking at her as she rolled away. All this was -my welcome as I entered the gate. It takes these half-Africans but a -moment to go back to their naked savage animal nature. Mrs. Izard is a -charming person. She tried so to make me forget it all and rest. - -_September 2d._—The battle has been raging at Atlanta,[123] and our fate -hanging in the balance. Atlanta, indeed, is gone. Well, that agony is -over. Like David, when the child was dead, I will get up from my knees, -will wash my face and comb my hair. No hope; we will try to have no fear. - -At the Prestons’ I found them drawn up in line of battle every moment -looking for the Doctor on his way to Richmond. Now, to drown thought, -for our day is done, read Dumas’s _Maîtres d’Armes_. Russia ought to -sympathize with us. We are not as barbarous as this, even if Mrs. Stowe’s -word be taken. Brutal men with unlimited power are the same all over the -world. See Russell’s India—Bull Run Russell’s. They say General Morgan -has been killed. We are hard as stones; we sit unmoved and hear any bad -news chance may bring. Are we stupefied? - -_September 19th._—My pink silk dress I have sold for $600, to be paid for -in instalments, two hundred a month for three months. And I sell my eggs -and butter from home for two hundred dollars a month. Does it not sound -well—four hundred dollars a month regularly. But in what? In Confederate -money. _Hélas!_ - -_September 21st._—Went with Mrs. Rhett to hear Dr. Palmer. I did not -know before how utterly hopeless was our situation. This man is so -eloquent, it was hard to listen and not give way. Despair was his word, -and martyrdom. He offered us nothing more in this world than the martyr’s -crown. He is not for slavery, he says; he is for freedom, and the -freedom to govern our own country as we see fit. He is against foreign -interference in our State matters. That is what Mr. Palmer went to war -for, it appears. Every day shows that slavery is doomed the world over; -for that he thanked God. He spoke of our agony, and then came the cry, -“Help us, O God! Vain is the help of man.” And so we came away shaken to -the depths. - -The end has come. No doubt of the fact. Our army has so moved as to -uncover Macon and Augusta. We are going to be wiped off the face of the -earth. What is there to prevent Sherman taking General Lee in the rear? -We have but two armies, and Sherman is between them now.[124] - -_September 24th._—These stories of our defeats in the valley fall like -blows upon a dead body. Since Atlanta fell I have felt as if all were -dead within me forever. Captain Ogden, of General Chesnut’s staff, -dined here to-day. Had ever brigadier, with little or no brigade, so -magnificent a staff? The reserves, as somebody said, have been secured -only by robbing the cradle and the grave—the men too old, the boys too -young. Isaac Hayne, Edward Barnwell, Bacon, Ogden, Richardson, Miles are -the picked men of the agreeable world. - -_October 1st._—Mary Cantey Preston’s wedding day has come and gone and -Mary is Mrs. John Darby now. Maggie Howell dressed the bride’s hair -beautifully, they said, but it was all covered by her veil, which was of -blond-lace, and the dress tulle and blond-lace, with diamonds and pearls. -The bride walked up the aisle on her father’s arm, Mrs. Preston on Dr. -Darby’s. I think it was the handsomest wedding party I ever saw. John -Darby[125] had brought his wedding uniform home with him from England, -and it did all honor to his perfect figure. I forget the name of his -London tailor—the best, of course! “Well,” said Isabella, “it would be -hard for any man to live up to those clothes.” - -And now, to the amazement of us all, Captain Chesnut (Johnny) who knows -everything, has rushed into a flirtation with Buck such as never was. He -drives her every day, and those wild, runaway, sorrel colts terrify my -soul as they go tearing, pitching, and darting from side to side of the -street. And my lady enjoys it. When he leaves her, he kisses her hand, -bowing so low to do it unseen that we see it all. - -_Saturday._—The President will be with us here in Columbia next Tuesday, -so Colonel McLean brings us word. I have begun at once to prepare to -receive him in my small house. His apartments have been decorated as well -as Confederate stringency would permit. The possibilities were not great, -but I did what I could for our honored chief; besides I like the man—he -has been so kind to me, and his wife is one of the few to whom I can -never be grateful enough for her generous appreciation and attention. - -I went out to the gate to greet the President, who met me most cordially; -kissed me, in fact. Custis Lee and Governor Lubbock were at his back. - -Immediately after breakfast (the Presidential party arrived a little -before daylight) General Chesnut drove off with the President’s aides, -and Mr. Davis sat out on our piazza. There was nobody with him but -myself. Some little boys strolling by called out, “Come here and look; -there is a man on Mrs. Chesnut’s porch who looks just like Jeff Davis on -postage-stamps.” People began to gather at once on the street. Mr. Davis -then went in. - -Mrs. McCord sent a magnificent bouquet—I thought, of course, for the -President; but she gave me such a scolding afterward. She did not know he -was there; I, in my mistake about the bouquet, thought she knew, and so -did not send her word. - -The President was watching me prepare a mint julep for Custis Lee when -Colonel McLean came to inform us that a great crowd had gathered and that -they were coming to ask the President to speak to them at one o’clock. An -immense crowd it was—men, women, and children. The crowd overflowed the -house, the President’s hand was nearly shaken off. I went to the rear, my -head intent on the dinner to be prepared for him, with only a Confederate -commissariat. But the patriotic public had come to the rescue. I had been -gathering what I could of eatables for a month, and now I found that -nearly everybody in Columbia was sending me whatever they had that they -thought nice enough for the President’s dinner. We had the sixty-year-old -Madeira from Mulberry, and the beautiful old china, etc. Mrs. Preston -sent a boned turkey stuffed with truffles, stuffed tomatoes, and stuffed -peppers. Each made a dish as pretty as it was appetizing. - -A mob of small boys only came to pay their respects to the President. He -seemed to know how to meet that odd delegation. - -Then the President’s party had to go, and we bade them an affectionate -farewell. Custis Lee and I had spent much time gossiping on the back -porch. While I was concocting dainties for the dessert, he sat on the -banister with a cigar in his mouth. He spoke very candidly, telling me -many a hard truth for the Confederacy, and about the bad time which was -at hand. - -_October 18th._—Ten pleasant days I owe to my sister. Kate has descended -upon me unexpectedly from the mountains of Flat Rock. We are true -sisters; she understands me without words, and she is the cleverest, -sweetest woman I know, so graceful and gracious in manner, so good and -unselfish in character, but, best of all, she is so agreeable. Any time -or place would be charming with Kate for a companion. General Chesnut was -in Camden; but I could not wait. I gave the beautiful bride, Mrs. Darby, -a dinner, which was simply perfection. I was satisfied for once in my -life with my own table, and I know pleasanter guests were never seated -around any table whatsoever. - -My house is always crowded. After all, what a number of pleasant people -we have been thrown in with by war’s catastrophes. I call such society -glorious. It is the wind-up, but the old life as it begins to die will -die royally. General Chesnut came back disheartened. He complains that -such a life as I lead gives him no time to think. - -_October 28th._—Burton Harrison writes to General Preston that supreme -anxiety reigns in Richmond. - -Oh, for one single port! If the Alabama had had in the whole wide world a -port to take her prizes to and where she could be refitted, I believe she -would have borne us through. Oh, for one single port by which we could -get at the outside world and refit our whole Confederacy! If we could -have hired regiments from Europe, or even have imported ammunition and -food for our soldiers! - -“Some days must be dark and dreary.” At the mantua-maker’s, however, I -saw an instance of faith in our future: a bride’s paraphernalia, and the -radiant bride herself, the bridegroom expectant and elect now within -twenty miles of Chattanooga and outward bound to face the foe. - -Saw at the Laurens’s not only Lizzie Hamilton, a perfect little beauty, -but the very table the first Declaration of Independence was written -upon. These Laurenses are grandchildren of Henry Laurens, of the first -Revolution. Alas! we have yet to make good our second declaration of -independence—Southern independence—from Yankee meddling and Yankee rule. -Hood has written to ask them to send General Chesnut out to command one -of his brigades. In whose place? - -If Albert Sidney Johnston had lived! Poor old General Lee has no backing. -Stonewall would have saved us from Antietam. Sherman will now catch -General Lee by the rear, while Grant holds him by the head, and while -Hood and Thomas are performing an Indian war-dance on the frontier. Hood -means to cut his way to Lee; see if he doesn’t. The “Yanks” have had a -struggle for it. More than once we seemed to have been too much for them. -We have been so near to success it aches one to think of it. So runs the -table-talk. - -Next to our house, which Isabella calls “Tillytudlem,” since Mr. Davis’s -visit, is a common of green grass and very level, beyond which comes -a belt of pine-trees. On this open space, within forty paces of us, a -regiment of foreign deserters has camped. They have taken the oath of -allegiance to our government, and are now being drilled and disciplined -into form before being sent to our army. They are mostly Germans, with -some Irish, however. Their close proximity keeps me miserable. Traitors -once, traitors forever. - -Jordan has always been held responsible for all the foolish -proclamations, and, indeed, for whatever Beauregard reported or -proclaimed. Now he has left that mighty chief, and, lo, here comes from -Beauregard the silliest and most boastful of his military bulletins. He -brags of Shiloh; that was not the way the story was told to us. - -A letter from Mrs. Davis, who says: “Thank you, a thousand times, my dear -friend, for your more than maternal kindness to my dear child.” That is -what she calls her sister, Maggie Howell. “As to Mr. Davis, he thinks -the best ham, the best Madeira, the best coffee, the best hostess in the -world, rendered Columbia delightful to him when he passed through. We -are in a sad and anxious state here just now. The dead come in; but the -living do not go out so fast. However, we hope all things and trust in -God as the only one able to resolve the opposite state of feeling into -a triumphant, happy whole. I had a surprise of an unusually gratifying -nature a few days since. I found I could not keep my horses, so I sold -them. The next day they were returned to me with a handsome anonymous -note to the effect that they had been bought by a few friends for me. But -I fear I can not feed them. Strictly between us, things look very anxious -here.” - -_November 6th._—Sally Hampton went to Richmond with the Rev. Mr. Martin. -She arrived there on Wednesday. On Thursday her father, Wade Hampton, -fought a great battle, but just did not win it—a victory narrowly missed. -Darkness supervened and impenetrable woods prevented that longed-for -consummation. Preston Hampton rode recklessly into the hottest fire. His -father sent his brother, Wade, to bring him back. Wade saw him reel in -the saddle and galloped up to him, General Hampton following. As young -Wade reached him, Preston fell from his horse, and the one brother, -stooping to raise the other, was himself shot down. Preston recognized -his father, but died without speaking a word. Young Wade, though wounded, -held his brother’s head up. Tom Taylor and others hurried up. The General -took his dead son in his arms, kissed him, and handed his body to Tom -Taylor and his friends, bade them take care of Wade, and then rode back -to his post. At the head of his troops in the thickest of the fray he -directed the fight for the rest of the day. Until night he did not know -young Wade’s fate; that boy might be dead, too! Now, he says, no son of -his must be in his command. When Wade recovers, he must join some other -division. The agony of such a day, and the anxiety and the duties of the -battle-field—it is all more than a mere man can bear. - -Another letter from Mrs. Davis. She says: “I was dreadfully shocked at -Preston Hampton’s fate—his untimely fate. I know nothing more touching in -history than General Hampton’s situation at the supremest moment of his -misery, when he sent one son to save the other and saw both fall; and -could not know for some moments whether both were not killed.” - -A thousand dollars have slipped through my fingers already this week. At -the Commissary’s I spent five hundred to-day for candles, sugar, and a -lamp, etc. Tallow candles are bad enough, but of them there seems to be -an end, too. Now we are restricted to smoky, terrabine lamps—terrabine -is a preparation of turpentine. When the chimney of the lamp cracks, -as crack it will, we plaster up the place with paper, thick old -letter-paper, preferring the highly glazed kind. In the hunt for paper -queer old letters come to light. - -Sherman, in Atlanta, has left Thomas to take care of Hood. Hood has -thirty thousand men, Thomas forty thousand, and as many more to be had as -he wants; he has only to ring the bell and call for them. Grant can get -all that he wants, both for himself and for Thomas. All the world is open -to them, while we are shut up in a bastile. We are at sea, and our boat -has sprung a leak. - -_November 17th._—Although Sherman[126] took Atlanta, he does not mean to -stay there, be it heaven or hell. Fire and the sword are for us here; -that is the word. And now I must begin my Columbia life anew and alone. -It will be a short shrift. - -Captain Ogden came to dinner on Sunday and in the afternoon asked me to -go with him to the Presbyterian Church and hear Mr. Palmer. We went, -and I felt very youthful, as the country people say; like a girl and -her beau. Ogden took me into a pew and my husband sat afar off. What a -sermon! The preacher stirred my blood. My very flesh crept and tingled. -A red-hot glow of patriotism passed through me. Such a sermon must -strengthen the hearts and the hands of many people. There was more -exhortation to fight and die, _à la_ Joshua, than meek Christianity. - -_November 25th._—Sherman is thundering at Augusta’s very doors. My -General was on the wing, somber, and full of care. The girls are merry -enough; the staff, who fairly live here, no better. Cassandra, with a -black shawl over her head, is chased by the gay crew from sofa to sofa, -for she avoids them, being full of miserable anxiety. There is nothing -but distraction and confusion. All things tend to the preparation for the -departure of the troops. It rains all the time, such rains as I never saw -before; incessant torrents. These men come in and out in the red mud and -slush of Columbia streets. Things seem dismal and wretched to me to the -last degree, but the staff, the girls, and the youngsters do not see it. - -Mrs. S. (born in Connecticut) came, and she was radiant. She did not come -to see me, but my nieces. She says exultingly that “Sherman will open -a way out at last, and I will go at once to Europe or go North to my -relatives there.” How she derided our misery and “mocked when our fear -cometh.” I dare say she takes me for a fool. I sat there dumb, although -she was in my own house. I have heard of a woman so enraged that she -struck some one over the head with a shovel. To-day, for the first time -in my life, I know how that mad woman felt. I could have given Mrs. S. -the benefit of shovel and tongs both. - -That splendid fellow, Preston Hampton; “home they brought their warrior, -dead,” and wrapped in that very Legion flag he had borne so often in -battle with his own hands. - -A letter from Mrs. Davis to-day, under date of Richmond, Va., November -20, 1864. She says: “Affairs West are looking so critical now that, -before you receive this, you and I will be in the depths or else -triumphant. I confess I do not sniff success in every passing breeze, -but I am so tired, hoping, fearing, and being disappointed, that I have -made up my mind not to be disconsolate, even though thieves break through -and steal. Some people expect another attack upon Richmond shortly, but -I think the avalanche will not slide until the spring breaks up its -winter quarters. I have a blind kind of prognostics of victory for us, -but somehow I am not cheered. The temper of Congress is less vicious, -but more concerted in its hostile action.” Mrs. Davis is a woman that my -heart aches for in the troubles ahead. - -My journal, a quire of Confederate paper, lies wide open on my desk in -the corner of my drawing-room. Everybody reads it who chooses. Buck comes -regularly to see what I have written last, and makes faces when it does -not suit her. Isabella still calls me Cassandra, and puts her hands to -her ears when I begin to wail. Well, Cassandra only records what she -hears; she does not vouch for it. For really, one nowadays never feels -certain of anything. - -_November 28th._—We dined at Mrs. McCord’s. She is as strong a cordial -for broken spirits and failing heart as one could wish. How her strength -contrasts with our weakness. Like Doctor Palmer, she strings one up -to bear bravely the worst. She has the intellect of a man and the -perseverance and endurance of a woman. - -We have lost nearly all of our men, and we have no money, and it looks as -if we had taught the Yankees how to fight since Manassas. Our best and -bravest are under the sod; we shall have to wait till another generation -grows up. Here we stand, despair in our hearts (“Oh, Cassandra, don’t!” -shouts Isabella), with our houses burning or about to be, over our heads. - -The North have just got things ship-shape; a splendid army, perfectly -disciplined, with new levies coming in day and night. Their gentry do not -go into the ranks. They hardly know there is a war up there. - -_December 1st._—At Coosawhatchie Yankees are landing in great force. Our -troops down there are raw militia, old men and boys never under fire -before; some college cadets, in all a mere handful. The cradle and the -grave have been robbed by us, they say. Sherman goes to Savannah and not -to Augusta. - -_December 2d._—Isabella and I put on bonnets and shawls and went -deliberately out for news. We determined to seek until we found. Met a -man who was so ugly, I could not forget him or his sobriquet; he was -awfully in love with me once. He did not know me, but blushed hotly when -Isabella told him who I was. He had forgotten me, I hope, or else I am -changed by age and care past all recognition. He gave us the encouraging -information that Grahamville had been burned to the ground. - -When the call for horses was made, Mrs. McCord sent in her fine bays. She -comes now with a pair of mules, and looks too long and significantly at -my ponies. If I were not so much afraid of her, I would hint that those -mules would be of far more use in camp than my ponies. But they will -seize the ponies, no doubt. - -In all my life before, the stables were far off from the house and I had -nothing to do with them. Now my ponies are kept under an open shed next -to the back piazza. Here I sit with my work, or my desk, or my book, -basking in our Southern sun, and I watch Nat feed, curry, and rub down -the horses, and then he cleans their stables as thoroughly as Smith does -my drawing-room. I see their beds of straw comfortably laid. Nat says, -“Ow, Missis, ain’t lady’s business to look so much in de stables.” I -care nothing for his grumbling, and I have never had horses in better -condition. Poor ponies, you deserve every attention, and enough to eat. -Grass does not grow under your feet. By night and day you are on the trot. - -To-day General Chesnut was in Charleston on his way from Augusta to -Savannah by rail. The telegraph is still working between Charleston and -Savannah. Grahamville certainly is burned. There was fighting down there -to-day. I came home with enough to think about, Heaven knows! And then -all day long we compounded a pound cake in honor of Mrs. Cuthbert, who -has things so nice at home. The cake was a success, but was it worth all -that trouble? - -As my party were driving off to the concert, an omnibus rattled up. Enter -Captain Leland, of General Chesnut’s staff, of as imposing a presence as -a field-marshal, handsome and gray-haired. He was here on some military -errand and brought me a letter. He said the Yankees had been repulsed, -and that down in those swamps we could give a good account of ourselves -if our government would send men enough. With a sufficient army to meet -them down there, they could be annihilated. “Where are the men to come -from?” asked Mamie, wildly. “General Hood has gone off to Tennessee. Even -if he does defeat Thomas there, what difference would that make here?” - -_December 3d._—We drank tea at Mrs. McCord’s; she had her troubles, too. -The night before a country cousin claimed her hospitality, one who fain -would take the train at five this morning. A little after midnight Mrs. -McCord was startled out of her first sleep by loud ringing of bells; an -alarm at night may mean so much just now. In an instant she was on her -feet. She found her guest, who thought it was daylight, and wanted to go. -Mrs. McCord forcibly demonstrated how foolish it was to get up five hours -too soon. Mrs. McCord, once more in her own warm bed, had fallen happily -to sleep. She was waked by feeling two ice-cold hands pass cautiously -over her face and person. It was pitch dark. Even Mrs. McCord gave a -scream in her fright. She found it was only the irrepressible guest up -and at her again. So, though it was only three o’clock, in order to quiet -this perturbed spirit she rose and at five drove her to the station, -where she had to wait some hours. But Mrs. McCord said, “anything for -peace at home.” The restless people who will not let others rest! - -_December 5th._—Miss Olivia Middleton and Mr. Frederick Blake are to -be married. We Confederates have invented the sit-up-all-night for the -wedding night: Isabella calls it the wake, not the wedding, of the -parties married. The ceremony will be performed early in the evening; -the whole company will then sit up until five o’clock, at which hour the -bridal couple take the train for Combahee. Hope Sherman will not be so -inconsiderate as to cut short the honeymoon. - -In tripped Brewster, with his hat on his head, both hands extended, and -his greeting, “Well, here we are!” He was travel-stained, disheveled, -grimy with dirt. The prophet would have to send him many times to bathe -in Jordan before he could be pronounced clean. - -Hood will not turn and pursue Sherman. Thomas is at his heels with forty -thousand men, and can have as many more as he wants for the asking. -Between Thomas and Sherman Hood would be crushed. So he was pushing—I do -not remember where or what. I know there was no comfort in anything he -said. - -Serena’s account of money spent: Paper and envelopes, $12.00; tickets to -concert, $10.00; tooth-brush, $10.00; total, $32.00. - -_December 14th._—And now the young ones are in bed and I am wide awake. -It is an odd thing; in all my life how many persons have I seen in love? -Not a half-dozen. And I am a tolerably close observer, a faithful watcher -have I been from my youth upward of men and manners. Society has been for -me only an enlarged field for character study. - -Flirtation is the business of society; that is, playing at love-making. -It begins in vanity, it ends in vanity. It is spurred on by idleness and -a want of any other excitement. Flattery, battledore and shuttlecock, -how in this game flattery is dashed backward and forward. It is so -soothing to self-conceit. If it begins and ends in vanity, vexation of -spirit supervenes sometimes. They do occasionally burn their fingers -awfully, playing with fire, but there are no hearts broken. Each party -in a flirtation has secured a sympathetic listener, to whom he or she -can talk of himself or herself—somebody who, for the time, admires one -exclusively, and, as the French say, _excessivement_. It is a pleasant, -but very foolish game, and so to bed. - -Hood and Thomas have had a fearful fight, with carnage and loss of -generals excessive in proportion to numbers. That means they were leading -and urging their men up to the enemy. I know how Bartow and Barnard Bee -were killed bringing up their men. One of Mr. Chesnut’s sins thrown in -his teeth by the Legislature of South Carolina was that he procured the -promotion of Gist, “State Rights” Gist, by his influence in Richmond. -What have these comfortable, stay-at-home patriots to say of General Gist -now? “And how could man die better than facing fearful odds,” etc. - -So Fort McAlister has fallen! Good-by, Savannah! Our Governor announces -himself a follower of Joe Brown, of Georgia. Another famous Joe. - -_December 19th._—The deep waters are closing over us and we are in this -house, like the outsiders at the time of the flood. We care for none of -these things. We eat, drink, laugh, dance, in lightness of heart. - -Doctor Trezevant came to tell me the dismal news. How he piled on the -agony! Desolation, mismanagement, despair. General Young, with the flower -of Hampton’s cavalry, is in Columbia. Horses can not be found to mount -them. Neither the Governor of Georgia nor the Governor of South Carolina -is moving hand or foot. They have given up. The Yankees claim another -victory for Thomas.[127] Hope it may prove like most of their victories, -brag and bluster. Can’t say why, maybe I am benumbed, but I do not feel -so intensely miserable. - -_December 27th._—Oh, why did we go to Camden? The very dismalest -Christmas overtook us there. Miss Rhett went with us—a brilliant woman -and very agreeable. “The world, you know, is composed,” said she, “of -men, women, and Rhetts” (see Lady Montagu). Now, we feel that if we -are to lose our negroes, we would as soon see Sherman free them as -the Confederate Government; freeing negroes is the last Confederate -Government craze. We are a little too slow about it; that is all. - -Sold fifteen bales of cotton and took a sad farewell look at Mulberry. It -is a magnificent old country-seat, with old oaks, green lawns and all. So -I took that last farewell of Mulberry, once so hated, now so beloved. - -_January 7th._—Sherman is at Hardieville and Hood in Tennessee, the last -of his men not gone, as Louis Wigfall so cheerfully prophesied. - -Serena went for a half-hour to-day to the dentist. Her teeth are of the -whitest and most regular, simply perfection. She fancied it was better to -have a dentist look in her mouth before returning to the mountains. For -that look she paid three hundred and fifty dollars in Confederate money. -“Why, has this money any value at all?” she asked. Little enough in all -truth, sad to say. - -Brewster was here and stayed till midnight. Said he must see General -Chesnut. He had business with him. His “me and General Hood” is no longer -comic. He described Sherman’s march of destruction and desolation. -“Sherman leaves a track fifty miles wide, upon which there is no living -thing to be seen,” said Brewster before he departed. - -_January 10th._—You do the Anabasis business when you want to get out of -the enemy’s country, and the Thermopylæ business when they want to get -into your country. But we retreated in our own country and we gave up our -mountain passes without a blow. But never mind the Greeks; if we had only -our own Game Cock, Sumter, our own Swamp Fox, Marion. Marion’s men or -Sumter’s, or the equivalent of them, now lie under the sod, in Virginia -or Tennessee. - -_January 14th._—Yesterday I broke down—gave way to abject terror under -the news of Sherman’s advance with no news of my husband. To-day, while -wrapped up on the sofa, too dismal even for moaning, there was a loud -knock. Shawls on and all, just as I was, I rushed to the door to find a -telegram from my husband: “All well; be at home Tuesday.” It was dated -from Adam’s Run. I felt as light-hearted as if the war were over. Then -I looked at the date and the place—Adam’s Run. It ends as it began—in a -run—Bull’s Run, from which their first sprightly running astounded the -world, and now Adam’s Run. But if we must run, who are left to run? From -Bull Run they ran fullhanded. But we have fought until maimed soldiers, -women, and children are all that remain to run. - -To-day Kershaw’s brigade, or what is left of it, passed through. What -shouts greeted it and what bold shouts of thanks it returned! It was all -a very encouraging noise, absolutely comforting. Some true men are left, -after all. - -_January 16th._—My husband is at home once more—for how long, I do not -know. His aides fill the house, and a group of hopelessly wounded haunt -the place. The drilling and the marching go on outside. It rains a flood, -with freshet after freshet. The forces of nature are befriending us, for -our enemies have to make their way through swamps. - -A month ago my husband wrote me a letter which I promptly suppressed -after showing it to Mrs. McCord. He warned us to make ready, for the end -had come. Our resources were exhausted, and the means of resistance could -not be found. We could not bring ourselves to believe it, and now, he -thinks, with the railroad all blown up, the swamps made impassable by the -freshets, which have no time to subside, so constant is the rain, and the -negroes utterly apathetic (would they be so if they saw us triumphant?), -if we had but an army to seize the opportunity we might do something; but -there are no troops; that is the real trouble. - -To-day Mrs. McCord exchanged $16,000 in Confederate bills for $300 in -gold—sixteen thousand for three hundred. - -_January 17th._—The Bazaar for the benefit of the hospitals opens now. -Sherman marches constantly. All the railroads are smashed, and if I laugh -at any mortal thing it is that I may not weep. Generals are as plenty as -blackberries, but none are in command. - -The Peace Commissioner, Blair, came. They say he gave Mr. Davis the kiss -of peace. And we send Stephens, Campbell, all who have believed in this -thing, to negotiate for peace. No hope, no good. Who dares hope? - -Repressed excitement in church. A great railroad character was called -out. He soon returned and whispered something to Joe Johnston and they -went out together. Somehow the whisper moved around to us that Sherman -was at Branchville. “Grant us patience, good Lord,” was prayed aloud. -“Not Ulysses Grant, good Lord,” murmured Teddy, profanely. Hood came -yesterday. He is staying at the Prestons’ with Jack. They sent for us. -What a heartfelt greeting he gave us. He can stand well enough without -his crutch, but he does very slow walking. How plainly he spoke out -dreadful words about “nay defeat and discomfiture; my army destroyed, -my losses,” etc., etc. He said he had nobody to blame but himself. A -telegram from Beauregard to-day to my husband. He does not know whether -Sherman intends to advance on Branchville, Charleston, or Columbia. - -Isabella said: “Maybe you attempted the impossible,” and began one of -her merriest stories. Jack Preston touched me on the arm and we slipped -out. “He did not hear a word she was saying. He has forgotten us all. Did -you notice how he stared in the fire? And the lurid spots which came out -in his face and the drops of perspiration that stood on his forehead?” -“Yes. He is going over some bitter scene; he sees Willie Preston with -his heart shot away. He sees the panic at Nashville and the dead on -the battle-field at Franklin.” “That agony on his face comes again and -again,” said tender-hearted Jack. “I can’t keep him out of those absent -fits.” - -Governor McGrath and General Winder talk of preparations for a defense of -Columbia. If Beauregard can’t stop Sherman down there, what have we got -here to do it with? Can we check or impede his march? Can any one? - -Last night General Hampton came in. I am sure he would do something to -save us if he were put in supreme command here. Hampton says Joe Johnston -is equal, if not superior, to Lee as a commanding officer. - -My silver is in a box and has been delivered for safe keeping to Isaac -McLaughlin, who is really my beau-ideal of a grateful negro. I mean to -trust him. My husband cares for none of these things now, and lets me do -as I please. - -Tom Archer died almost as soon as he got to Richmond. Prison takes the -life out of men. He was only half-alive when here. He had a strange, -pallid look and such a vacant stare until you roused him. Poor pretty -Sally Archer: that is the end of you.[128] - - - - -XIX - -LINCOLNTON, N. C. - -_February 16, 1865-March 15, 1865_ - - -Lincolnton, N. C., _February 16, 1865_.—A change has come o’er the spirit -of my dream. Dear old quire of yellow, coarse, Confederate home-made -paper, here you are again. An age of anxiety and suffering has passed -over my head since last I wrote and wept over your forlorn pages. - -My ideas of those last days are confused. The Martins left Columbia the -Friday before I did, and Mammy, the negro woman, who had nursed them, -refused to go with them. That daunted me. Then Mrs. McCord, who was to -send her girls with me, changed her mind. She sent them up-stairs in her -house and actually took away the staircase; that was her plan. - -Then I met Mr. Christopher Hampton, arranging to take off his sisters. -They were flitting, but were to go only as far as Yorkville. He said it -was time to move on. Sherman was at Orangeburg, barely a day’s journey -from Columbia, and had left a track as bare and blackened as a fire -leaves on the prairies. - -So my time had come, too. My husband urged me to go home. He said Camden -would be safe enough. They had no spite against that old town, as they -have against Charleston and Columbia. Molly, weeping and wailing, came -in while we were at table. Wiping her red-hot face with the cook’s -grimy apron, she said I ought to go among our own black people on the -plantation; they would take care of me better than any one else. So I -agreed to go to Mulberry or the Hermitage plantation, and sent Lawrence -down with a wagon-load of my valuables. - -Then a Miss Patterson called—a refugee from Tennessee. She had been in a -country overrun by Yankee invaders, and she described so graphically all -the horrors to be endured by those subjected to fire and sword, rapine -and plunder, that I was fairly scared, and determined to come here. This -is a thoroughly out-of-all-routes place. And yet I can go to Charlotte, -am half-way to Kate at Flat Rock, and there is no Federal army between me -and Richmond. - -As soon as my mind was finally made up, we telegraphed to Lawrence, who -had barely got to Camden in the wagon when the telegram was handed to -him; so he took the train and came back. Mr. Chesnut sent him with us to -take care of the party. - -We thought that if the negroes were ever so loyal to us, they could -not protect me from an army bent upon sweeping us from the face of the -earth, and if they tried to do so so much the worse would it be for the -poor things with their Yankee friends. I then left them to shift for -themselves, as they are accustomed to do, and I took the same liberty. -My husband does not care a fig for the property question, and never did. -Perhaps, if he had ever known poverty, it would be different. He talked -beautifully about it, as he always does about everything. I have told him -often that, if at heaven’s gate St. Peter would listen to him a while, -and let him tell his own story, he would get in, and the angels might -give him a crown extra. - -Now he says he has only one care—that I should be safe, and not so -harassed with dread; and then there is his blind old father. “A man,” -said he, “can always die like a patriot and a gentleman, with no fuss, -and take it coolly. It is hard not to envy those who are out of all this, -their difficulties ended—those who have met death gloriously on the -battle-field, their doubts all solved. One can but do his best and leave -the result to a higher power.” - -After New Orleans, those vain, passionate, impatient little Creoles were -forever committing suicide, driven to it by despair and “Beast” Butler. -As we read these things, Mrs. Davis said: “If they want to die, why not -first kill ‘Beast’ Butler, rid the world of their foe and be saved the -trouble of murdering themselves?” That practical way of removing their -intolerable burden did not occur to them. I repeated this suggestive -anecdote to our corps of generals without troops, here in this house, as -they spread out their maps on my table where lay this quire of paper from -which I write. Every man Jack of them had a safe plan to stop Sherman, -if—— - -Even Beauregard and Lee were expected, but Grant had double-teamed -on Lee. Lee could not save his own—how could he come to save us? -Read the list of the dead in those last battles around Richmond and -Petersburg[129] if you want to break your heart. - -I took French leave of Columbia—slipped away without a word to anybody. -Isaac Hayne and Mr. Chesnut came down to the Charlotte depot with me. -Ellen, my maid, left her husband and only child, but she was willing to -come, and, indeed, was very cheerful in her way of looking at it. - -“I wan’ travel ’roun’ wid Missis some time—stid uh Molly goin’ all de -time.” - -A woman, fifty years old at least, and uglier than she was old, sharply -rebuked my husband for standing at the car window for a last few words -with me. She said rudely: “Stand aside, sir! I want air!” With his hat -off, and his grand air, my husband bowed politely, and said: “In one -moment, madam; I have something important to say to my wife.” - -She talked aloud and introduced herself to every man, claiming his -protection. She had never traveled alone before in all her life. Old age -and ugliness are protective in some cases. She was ardently patriotic for -a while. Then she was joined by her friend, a man as crazy as herself to -get out of this. From their talk I gleaned she had been for years in the -Treasury Department. They were about to cross the lines. The whole idea -was to get away from the trouble to come down here. They were Yankees, -but were they not spies? - -Here I am broken-hearted and an exile. And in such a place! We have bare -floors, and for a feather-bed, pine table, and two chairs I pay $30 a -day. Such sheets! But fortunately I have some of my own. At the door, -before I was well out of the hack, the woman of the house packed Lawrence -back, neck and heels: she would not have him at any price. She treated -him as Mr. F.’s aunt did Clenman in Little Dorrit. She said his clothes -were too fine for a nigger. “His airs, indeed.” Poor Lawrence was humble -and silent. He said at last, “Miss Mary, send me back to Mars Jeems.” -I began to look for a pencil to write a note to my husband, but in the -flurry could not find one. “Here is one,” said Lawrence, producing one -with a gold case. “Go away,” she shouted, “I want no niggers here with -gold pencils and airs.” So Lawrence fled before the storm, but not before -he had begged me to go back. He said, “if Mars Jeems knew how you was -treated he’d never be willing for you to stay here.” - -The Martins had seen my, to them, well-known traveling case as the hack -trotted up Main Street, and they arrived at this juncture out of breath. -We embraced and wept. I kept my room. - -The Fants are refugees here, too; they are Virginians, and have been in -exile since the second battle of Manassas. Poor things; they seem to have -been everywhere, and seen and suffered everything. They even tried to go -back to their own house, but found one chimney only standing alone; even -that had been taken possession of by a Yankee, who had written his name -upon it. - -The day I left home I had packed a box of flour, sugar, rice, and coffee, -but my husband would not let me bring it. He said I was coming to a -land of plenty—unexplored North Carolina, where the foot of the Yankee -marauder was unknown, and in Columbia they would need food. Now I have -written for that box and many other things to be sent me by Lawrence, or -I shall starve. - -The Middletons have come. How joyously I sprang to my feet to greet them. -Mrs. Ben Rutledge described the hubbub in Columbia. Everybody was flying -in every direction like a flock of swallows. She heard the enemy’s guns -booming in the distance. The train no longer runs from Charlotte to -Columbia. Miss Middleton possesses her soul in peace. She is as cool, -clever, rational, and entertaining as ever, and we talked for hours. Mrs. -Reed was in a state of despair. I can well understand that sinking of -mind and body during the first days as the abject misery of it all closes -in upon you. I remember my suicidal tendencies when I first came here. - -_February 18th._—Here I am, thank God, settled at the McLean’s, in a -clean, comfortable room, airy and cozy. With a grateful heart I stir up -my own bright wood fire. My bill for four days at this splendid hotel -here was $240, with $25 additional for fire. But once more my lines have -fallen in pleasant places. - -As we came up on the train from Charlotte a soldier took out of his -pocket a filthy rag. If it had lain in the gutter for months it could -not have looked worse. He unwrapped the thing carefully and took out two -biscuits of the species known as “hard tack.” Then he gallantly handed -me one, and with an ingratiating smile asked me “to take some.” Then -he explained, saying, “Please take these two; swap with me; give me -something softer that I can eat; I am very weak still.” Immediately, for -his benefit, my basket of luncheon was emptied, but as for his biscuit, -I would not choose any. Isabella asked, “But what did you say to him when -he poked them under your nose?” and I replied, “I held up both hands, -saying, ‘I would not take from you anything that is yours—far from it! I -would not touch them for worlds.’” - -A tremendous day’s work and I helped with a will; our window glass was -all to be washed. Then the brass andirons were to be polished. After we -rubbed them bright how pretty they were. - -Presently Ellen would have none of me. She was scrubbing the floor. “You -go—dat’s a good missis—an’ stay to Miss Isabella’s till de flo’ dry.” I -am very docile now, and I obeyed orders. - -_February 19th._—The Fants say all the trouble at the hotel came from -our servants’ bragging. They represented us as millionaires, and the -Middleton men servants smoked cigars. Mrs. Reed’s averred that he had -never done anything in his life but stand behind his master at table -with a silver waiter in his hand. We were charged accordingly, but -perhaps the landlady did not get the best of us after all, for we paid -her in Confederate money. Now that they won’t take Confederate money in -the shops here how are we to live? Miss Middleton says quartermasters’ -families are all clad in good gray cloth, but the soldiers go naked. -Well, we are like the families of whom the novels always say they are -poor but honest. Poor? Well-nigh beggars are we, for I do not know where -my next meal is to come from. - -Called on Mrs. Ben Rutledge to-day. She is lovely, exquisitely refined. -Her mother, Mrs. Middleton, came in. “You are not looking well, dear? -Anything the matter?” “No—but, mamma, I have not eaten a mouthful to-day. -The children can eat mush; I can’t. I drank my tea, however.” She does -not understand taking favors, and, blushing violently, refused to let me -have Ellen make her some biscuit. I went home and sent her some biscuit -all the same. - -_February 22d._—Isabella has been reading my diaries. How we laugh -because my sage divinations all come to naught. My famous “insight into -character” is utter folly. The diaries were lying on the hearth ready -to be burned, but she told me to hold on to them; think of them a while -and don’t be rash. Afterward when Isabella and I were taking a walk, -General Joseph E. Johnston joined us. He explained to us all of Lee’s -and Stonewall Jackson’s mistakes. We had nothing to say—how could we -say anything? He said he was very angry when he was ordered to take -command again. He might well have been in a genuine rage. This on and off -procedure would be enough to bewilder the coolest head. Mrs. Johnston -knows how to be a partizan of Joe Johnston and still not make his enemies -uncomfortable. She can be pleasant and agreeable, as she was to my face. - -A letter from my husband who is at Charlotte. He came near being taken -a prisoner in Columbia, for he was asleep the morning of the 17th, when -the Yankees blew up the railroad depot. That woke him, of course, and he -found everybody had left Columbia, and the town was surrendered by the -mayor, Colonel Goodwyn. Hampton and his command had been gone several -hours. Isaac Hayne came away with General Chesnut. There was no fire in -the town when they left. They overtook Hampton’s command at Meek’s Mill. -That night, from the hills where they encamped, they saw the fire, and -knew the Yankees were burning the town, as we had every reason to expect -they would. Molly was left in charge of everything of mine, including -Mrs. Preston’s cow, which I was keeping, and Sally Goodwyn’s furniture. - -[Illustration: RUINS OF MILLWOOD, WADE HAMPTON’S ANCESTRAL HOME. - -From a Recent Photograph.] - -Charleston and Wilmington have surrendered. I have no further use for -a newspaper. I never want to see another one as long as I live. Wade -Hampton has been made a lieutenant-general, too late. If he had been -made one and given command in South Carolina six months ago I believe he -would have saved us. Shame, disgrace, beggary, all have come at once, -and are hard to bear—the grand smash! Rain, rain, outside, and naught but -drowning floods of tears inside. I could not bear it; so I rushed down -in that rainstorm to the Martins’. Rev. Mr. Martin met me at the door. -“Madam,” said he, “Columbia is burned to the ground.” I bowed my head and -sobbed aloud. “Stop that!” he said, trying to speak cheerfully. “Come -here, wife,” said he to Mrs. Martin. “This woman cries with her whole -heart, just as she laughs.” But in spite of his words, his voice broke -down, and he was hardly calmer than myself. - -_February 23d._—I want to get to Kate, I am so utterly heart-broken. I -hope John Chesnut and General Chesnut may at least get into the same -army. We seem scattered over the face of the earth. Isabella sits there -calmly reading. I have quieted down after the day’s rampage. May our -heavenly Father look down on us and have pity. - -They say I was the last refugee from Columbia who was allowed to enter -by the door of the cars. The government took possession then and women -could only be smuggled in by the windows. Stout ones stuck and had to be -pushed, pulled, and hauled in by main force. Dear Mrs. Izard, with all -her dignity, was subjected to this rough treatment. She was found almost -too much for the size of the car windows. - -_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 Lincolnton. They say -that with something very near to tears in his eyes he heard of our latest -defeats. “It is only a question of time with us now,” he said. “The -raiders will come, you know.” - -In Washington, before I knew any of them, except by sight, Mrs. Davis, -Mrs. Emory, and Mrs. Johnston were always together, inseparable friends, -and the trio were pointed out to me as the cleverest women in the United -States. Now that I do know them all well, I think the world was right in -its estimate of them. - -Met a Mr. Ancrum of serenely cheerful aspect, happy and hopeful. “All -right now,” said he. “Sherman sure to be thrashed. Joe Johnston is in -command.” Dr. Darby says, when the oft-mentioned Joseph, the malcontent, -gave up his command to Hood, he remarked with a smile, “I hope you will -be able to stop Sherman; it was more than I could do.” General Johnston -is not of Mr. Ancrum’s way of thinking as to his own powers, for he -stayed here several days after he was ordered to the front. He must have -known he could do no good, and I am of his opinion. - -When the wagon, in which I was to travel to Flat Rock, drove up to the -door, covered with a tent-like white cloth, in my embarrassment for an -opening in the conversation I asked the driver’s name. He showed great -hesitation in giving it, but at last said: “My name is Sherman,” adding, -“and now I see by your face that you won’t go with me. My name is against -me these times.” Here he grinned and remarked: “But you would leave -Lincolnton.” - -That name was the last drop in my cup, but I gave him Mrs. Glover’s -reason for staying here. General Johnston had told her this “might be the -safest place after all.” He thinks the Yankees are making straight for -Richmond and General Lee’s rear, and will go by Camden and Lancaster, -leaving Lincolnton on their west flank. - -The McLeans are kind people. They ask no rent for their rooms—only $20 a -week for firewood. Twenty dollars! and such dollars—mere waste paper. - -Mrs. Munroe took up my photograph book, in which I have a picture of all -the Yankee generals. “I want to see the men who are to be our masters,” -said she. “Not mine” I answered, “thank God, come what may. This was -a free fight. We had as much right to fight to get out as they had to -fight to keep us in. If they try to play the masters, anywhere upon the -habitable globe will I go, never to see a Yankee, and if I die on the way -so much the better.” Then I sat down and wrote to my husband in language -much worse than anything I can put in this book. As I wrote I was blinded -by tears of rage. Indeed, I nearly wept myself away. - -_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 husband is well, and has been -ordered to join the great Retreater. I am bodily comfortable, if somewhat -dingily lodged, and I daily part with my raiment for food. We find no one -who will exchange eatables for Confederate money; so we are devouring our -clothes. - -Opportunities for social enjoyment are not wanting. Miss Middleton and -Isabella often drink a cup of tea with me. One might search the whole -world and not find two cleverer or more agreeable women. Miss Middleton -is brilliant and accomplished. She must have been a hard student all her -life. She knows everybody worth knowing, and she has been everywhere. -Then she is so high-bred, high-hearted, pure, and true. She is so -clean-minded; she could not harbor a wrong thought. She is utterly -unselfish, a devoted daughter and sister. She is one among the many -large-brained women a kind Providence has thrown in my way, such as -Mrs. McCord, daughter of Judge Cheves; Mary Preston Darby, Mrs. Emory, -granddaughter of old Franklin, the American wise man, and Mrs. Jefferson -Davis. How I love to praise my friends! - -As a ray of artificial sunshine, Mrs. Munroe sent me an Examiner. Daniel -thinks we are at the last gasp, and now England and France are bound to -step in. England must know if the United States of America are triumphant -they will tackle her next, and France must wonder if she will not have to -give up Mexico. My faith fails me. It is all too late; no help for us now -from God or man. - -Thomas, Daniel says, was now to ravage Georgia, but Sherman, from all -accounts, has done that work once for all. There will be no aftermath. -They say no living thing is found in Sherman’s track, only chimneys, like -telegraph poles, to carry the news of Sherman’s army backward. - -In all that tropical down-pour, Mrs. Munroe sent me overshoes and an -umbrella, with the message, “Come over.” I went, for it would be as well -to drown in the streets as to hang myself at home to my own bedpost. At -Mrs. Munroe’s I met a Miss McDaniel. Her father, for seven years, was the -Methodist preacher at our negro church. The negro church is in a grove -just opposite Mulberry house. She says her father has so often described -that fine old establishment and its beautiful lawn, live-oaks, etc. Now, -I dare say there stand at Mulberry only Sherman’s sentinels—stacks of -chimneys. We have made up our minds for the worst. Mulberry house is no -doubt razed to the ground. - -Miss McDaniel was inclined to praise us. She said: “As a general rule -the Episcopal minister went to the family mansion, and the Methodist -missionary preached to the negroes and dined with the overseer at his -house, but at Mulberry her father always stayed at the ‘House,’ and the -family were so kind and attentive to him.” It was rather pleasant to hear -one’s family so spoken of among strangers. - -So, well equipped to brave the weather, armed cap-a-pie, so to speak, I -continued my prowl farther afield and brought up at the Middletons’. I -may have surprised them, for “at such an inclement season” they hardly -expected a visitor. Never, however, did lonely old woman receive such a -warm and hearty welcome. Now we know the worst. Are we growing hardened? -We avoid all allusion to Columbia; we never speak of home, and we begin -to deride the certain poverty that lies ahead. - -How it pours! Could I live many days in solitary confinement? Things are -beginning to be unbearable, but I must sit down and be satisfied. My -husband is safe so far. Let me be thankful it is no worse with me. But -there is the gnawing pain all the same. What is the good of being here -at all? Our world has simply gone to destruction. And across the way -the fair Lydia languishes. She has not even my resources against ennui. -She has no Isabella, no Miss Middleton, two as brilliant women as any -in Christendom. Oh, how does she stand it! I mean to go to church if it -rains cats and dogs. My feet are wet two or three times a day. We never -take cold; our hearts are too hot within us for that. - -A carriage was driven up to the door as I was writing. I began to tie on -my bonnet, and said to myself in the glass, “Oh, you lucky woman!” I was -all in a tremble, so great was my haste to be out of this. Mrs. Glover -had the carriage. She came for me to go and hear Mr. Martin preach. He -lifts our spirits from this dull earth; he takes us up to heaven. That -I will not deny. Still he can not hold my attention; my heart wanders -and my mind strays back to South Carolina. Oh, vandal Sherman! what are -you at there, hard-hearted wretch that you are! A letter from General -Chesnut, who writes from camp near Charlotte under date of February 28th: - -“I thank you a thousand, thousand times for your kind letters. They are -now my only earthly comfort, except the hope that all is not yet lost. -We have been driven like a wild herd from our country. And it is not -from a want of spirit in the people or soldiers, nor from want of energy -and competency in our commanders. The restoration of Joe Johnston, it is -hoped, will redound to the advantage of our cause and the reestablishment -of our fortunes! I am still in not very agreeable circumstances. For the -last four days completely water-bound. - -“I am informed that a detachment of Yankees were sent from Liberty Hill -to Camden with a view to destroying all the houses, mills, and provisions -about that place. No particulars have reached me. You know I expected the -worst that could be done, and am fully prepared for any report which may -be made. - -“It would be a happiness beyond expression to see you even for an hour. I -have heard nothing from my poor old father. I fear I shall never see him -again. Such is the fate of war. I do not complain. I have deliberately -chosen my lot, and am prepared for any fate that awaits me. My care -is for you, and I trust still in the good cause of my country and the -justice and mercy of Cod.” - -It was a lively, rushing, young set that South Carolina put to the fore. -They knew it was a time of imminent danger, and that the fight would be -ten to one. They expected to win by activity, energy, and enthusiasm. -Then came the wet blanket, the croakers; now, these are posing, wrapping -Cæsar’s mantle about their heads to fall with dignity. Those gallant -youths who dashed so gaily to the front lie mostly in bloody graves. Well -for them, maybe. There are worse things than honorable graves. Wearisome -thoughts. Late in life we are to begin anew and have laborious, difficult -days ahead. - -We have contradictory testimony. Governor Aiken has passed through, -saying Sherman left Columbia as he found it, and was last heard from at -Cheraw. Dr. Chisolm walked home with me. He says that is the last version -of the story. Now my husband wrote that he himself saw the fires which -burned up Columbia. The first night his camp was near enough to the town -for that. - -They say Sherman has burned Lancaster—that Sherman nightmare, that ghoul, -that hyena! But I do not believe it. He takes his time. There are none to -molest him. He does things leisurely and deliberately. Why stop to do so -needless a thing as burn Lancaster court-house, the jail, and the tavern? -As I remember it, that description covers Lancaster. A raiding party they -say did for Camden. - -No train from Charlotte yesterday. Rumor says Sherman is in Charlotte. - -_February 29th._—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 -Lincoln would consent to exchange prisoners; but men are nothing to -the United States—things to throw away. If they send our men back they -strengthen our army, and so again their policy is to keep everybody -and everything here in order to help starve us out. That, too, is what -Sherman’s destruction means—to starve us out. - -Young Brevard asked me to play accompaniments for him. The guitar is my -instrument, or was; so I sang and played, to my own great delight. It was -a distraction. Then I made egg-nog for the soldier boys below and came -home. Have spent a very pleasant evening. Begone, dull care; you and I -never agree. - -Ellen and I are shut up here. It is rain, rain, everlasting rain. As our -money is worthless, are we not to starve? Heavens! how grateful I was -to-day when Mrs. McLean sent me a piece of chicken. I think the emptiness -of my larder has leaked out. To-day Mrs. Munroe sent me hot cakes and -eggs for my breakfast. - -_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 and pray, and go dragging to church like drowned rats to be preached -at. - -My letter from my husband was so—well, what in a woman you would call -heart-broken, that I began to get ready for a run up to Charlotte. My hat -was on my head, my traveling-bag in my hand, and Ellen was saying “Which -umbrella, ma’am?” “Stop, Ellen,” said I, “someone is speaking out there.” -A tap came at the door, and Miss McLean threw the door wide open as she -said in a triumphant voice: “Permit me to announce General Chesnut.” As -she went off she sang out, “Oh, does not a meeting like this make amends?” - -We went after luncheon to see Mrs. Munroe. My husband wanted to thank her -for all her kindness to me. I was awfully proud of him. I used to think -that everybody had the air and manners of a gentleman. I know now that -these accomplishments are things to thank God for. Father O’Connell came -in, fresh from Columbia, and with news at last. Sherman’s men had burned -the convent. Mrs. Munroe had pinned her faith to Sherman because he was a -Roman Catholic, but Father O’Connell was there and saw it. The nuns and -girls marched to the old Hampton house (Mrs. Preston’s now), and so saved -it. They walked between files of soldiers. Men were rolling tar barrels -and lighting torches to fling on the house when the nuns came. Columbia -is but dust and ashes, burned to the ground. Men, women, and children -have been left there homeless, houseless, and without one particle of -food—reduced to picking up corn that was left by Sherman’s horses on -picket grounds and parching it to stay their hunger. - -How kind my friends were on this, my fête day! Mrs. Rutledge sent me a -plate of biscuit; Mrs. Munroe, nearly enough food supplies for an entire -dinner; Miss McLean a cake for dessert. Ellen cooked and served up the -material happily at hand very nicely, indeed. There never was a more -successful dinner. My heart was too full to eat, but I was quiet and -calm; at least I spared my husband the trial of a broken voice and tears. -As he stood at the window, with his back to the room, he said: “Where -are they now—my old blind father and my sister? Day and night I see her -leading him out from under his own rooftree. That picture pursues me -persistently. But come, let us talk of pleasanter things.” To which I -answered, “Where will you find them?” - -He took off his heavy cavalry boots and Ellen carried them away to wash -the mud off and dry them. She brought them back just as Miss Middleton -walked in. In his agony, while struggling with those huge boots and -trying to get them on, he spoke to her volubly in French. She turned -away from him instantly, as she saw his shoeless plight, and said to -me, “I had not heard of your happiness. I did not know the General was -here.” Not until next day did we have time to remember and laugh at that -outbreak of French. Miss Middleton answered him in the same language. He -told her how charmed he was with my surroundings, and that he would go -away with a much lighter heart since he had seen the kind people with -whom he would leave me. - -I asked my husband what that correspondence between Sherman and Hampton -meant—this while I was preparing something for our dinner. His back was -still turned as he gazed out of the window. He spoke in the low and -steady monotone that characterized our conversation the whole day, and -yet there was something in his voice that thrilled me as he said: “The -second day after our march from Columbia we passed the M.’s. He was a -bonded man and not at home. His wife said at first that she could not -find forage for our horses, but afterward she succeeded in procuring -some. I noticed a very handsome girl who stood beside her as she spoke, -and I suggested to her mother the propriety of sending her out of the -track of both armies. Things were no longer as heretofore; there was -so much straggling, so many camp followers, with no discipline, on the -outskirts of the army. The girl answered quickly, ‘I wish to stay with -my mother.’ That very night a party of Wheeler’s men came to our camp, -and such a tale they told of what had been done at the place of horror -and destruction, the mother left raving. The outrage had been committed -before her very face, she having been secured first. After this crime the -fiends moved on. There were only seven of them. They had been gone but a -short time when Wheeler’s men went in pursuit at full speed and overtook -them, cut their throats and wrote upon their breasts: ‘These were the -seven!’” - -“But the girl?” - -“Oh, she was dead!” - -“Are his critics as violent as ever against the President?” asked I when -recovered from pity and horror. “Sometimes I think I am the only friend -he has in the world. At these dinners, which they give us everywhere, I -spoil the sport, for I will not sit still and hear Jeff Davis abused for -things he is no more responsible for than any man at that table. Once I -lost my temper and told them it sounded like arrant nonsense to me, and -that Jeff Davis was a gentleman and a patriot, with more brains than the -assembled company.” “You lost your temper truly,” said I. “And I did -not know it. I thought I was as cool as I am now. In Washington when we -left, Jeff Davis ranked second to none, in intellect, and may be first, -from the South, and Mrs. Davis was the friend of Mrs. Emory, Mrs. Joe -Johnston, and Mrs. Montgomery Blair, and others of that circle. Now they -rave that he is nobody, and never was.” “And she?” I asked. “Oh, you -would think to hear them that he found her yesterday in a Mississippi -swamp!” “Well, in the French Revolution it was worse. When a man failed -he was guillotined. Mirabeau did not die a day too soon, even Mirabeau.” - -He is gone. With despair in my heart I left that railroad station. Allan -Green walked home with me. I met his wife and his four ragged little boys -a day or so ago. She is the neatest, the primmest, the softest of women. -Her voice is like the gentle cooing of a dove. That lowering black future -hangs there all the same. The end of the war brings no hope of peace or -of security to us. Ellen said I had a little piece of bread and a little -molasses in store for my dinner to-day. - -_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 upon my bare table, and uncovered it with conscious -pride. There were fowls ready for roasting, sausages, butter, bread, -eggs, and preserves. I was dumb with delight. After silent thanks to -heaven my powers of speech returned, and I exhausted myself in messages -of gratitude to Mrs. McDaniel. - -“Missis, you oughtn’t to let her see how glad you was,” said Ellen. “It -was a lettin’ of yo’sef down.” - -Mrs. Glover gave me some yarn, and I bought five dozen eggs with it from -a wagon—eggs for Lent. To show that I have faith yet in humanity, I paid -in advance in yarn for something to eat, which they promised to bring -to-morrow. Had they rated their eggs at $100 a dozen in “Confederick” -money, I would have paid it as readily as $10. But I haggle in yarn for -the millionth part of a thread. - -Two weeks have passed and the rumors from Columbia are still of the -vaguest. No letter has come from there, no direct message, or messenger. -“My God!” cried Dr. Frank Miles, “but it is strange. Can it be anything -so dreadful they dare not tell us?” Dr. St. Julien Ravenel has grown pale -and haggard with care. His wife and children were left there. - -Dr. Brumby has at last been coaxed into selling me enough leather for the -making of a pair of shoes, else I should have had to give up walking. -He knew my father well. He intimated that in some way my father helped -him through college. His own money had not sufficed, and so William C. -Preston and my father advanced funds sufficient to let him be graduated. -Then my uncle, Charles Miller, married his aunt. I listened in rapture, -for all this tended to leniency in the leather business, and I bore off -the leather gladly. When asked for Confederate money in trade I never -stop to bargain. I give them $20 or $50 cheerfully for anything—either -sum. - -_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 my legs were worse than -my head, and then I had a nervous chill. So I came home, went to bed -and stayed there until the Fants brought me a letter saying my husband -would be here to-day. Then I got up and made ready to give him a cheerful -reception. Soon a man called, Troy by name, the same who kept the little -corner shop so near my house in Columbia, and of whom we bought things -so often. We had fraternized. He now shook hands with me and looked in -my face pitifully. We seemed to have been friends all our lives. He says -they stopped the fire at the Methodist College, perhaps to save old Mr. -McCartha’s house. Mr. Sheriff Dent, being burned out, took refuge in our -house. He contrived to find favor in Yankee eyes. Troy relates that a -Yankee officer snatched a watch from Mrs. McCord’s bosom. The soldiers -tore the bundles of clothes that the poor wretches tried to save from -their burning homes, and dashed them back into the flames. They meant -to make a clean sweep. They were howling round the fires like demons, -these Yankees in their joy and triumph at our destruction. Well, we have -given them a big scare and kept them miserable for four years—the little -handful of us. - -A woman we met on the street stopped to tell us a painful coincidence. -A general was married but he could not stay at home very long after -the wedding. When his baby was born they telegraphed him, and he sent -back a rejoicing answer with an inquiry, “Is it a boy or a girl?” He -was killed before he got the reply. Was it not sad? His poor young wife -says, “He did not live to hear that his son lived.” The kind woman added, -sorrowfully, “Died and did not know the sect of his child.” “Let us hope -it will be a Methodist,” said Isabella, the irrepressible. - -At the venison feast Isabella heard a good word for me and one for -General Chesnut’s air of distinction, a thing people can not give -themselves, try as ever they may. Lord Byron says, Everybody knows a -gentleman when he sees one, and nobody can tell what it is that makes a -gentleman. He knows the thing, but he can’t describe it. Now there are -some French words that can not be translated, and we all know the thing -they mean—_gracieuse_ and _svelte_, for instance, as applied to a woman. -Not that anything was said of me like that—far from it. I am fair, fat, -forty, and jolly, and in my unbroken jollity, as far as they know, they -found my charm. “You see, she doesn’t howl; she doesn’t cry; she never, -never tells anybody about what she was used to at home and what she has -lost.” High praise, and I intend to try and deserve it ever after. - -_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, Miss Middleton and Isabella witnessing the generous action, and -straight out offered me money. “No, put up that,” said I. “I am not a -beggar, and I never will be; to die is so much easier.” - -Alas, after that flourish of trumpets, when he came with a sack of flour, -I accepted it gratefully. I receive things I can not pay for, but money -is different. There I draw a line, imaginary perhaps. Once before the -same thing happened. Our letters of credit came slowly in 1845, when we -went unexpectedly to Europe and our letters were to follow us. I was a -poor little, inoffensive bride, and a British officer, who guessed our -embarrassment, for we did not tell him (he came over with us on the -ship), asked my husband to draw on his banker until the letters of credit -should arrive. It was a nice thing for a stranger to do. - -We have never lost what we never had. We have never had any money—only -unlimited credit, for my husband’s richest kind of a father insured us -all manner of credit. It was all a mirage only at last, and it has gone -just as we drew nigh to it. - -Colonel Childs says eight of our Senators are for reconstruction, and -that a ray of light has penetrated inward from Lincoln, who told Judge -Campbell that Southern land would not be confiscated. - -_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 cease, this wearisome looking, looking, looking for him. - -_March 13th._—My husband at last did come for a visit of two hours. -Brought Lawrence, who had been to Camden, and was there, indeed, during -the raid. My husband has been ordered to Chester, S. C. We are surprised -to see by the papers that we behaved heroically in leaving everything we -had to be destroyed, without one thought of surrender. We had not thought -of ourselves from the heroic point of view. Isaac McLaughlin hid and -saved everything we trusted him with. A grateful negro is Isaac. - -_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 own carriage, and a fly-brush -boy called Battis, whose occupation in life was to stand behind the table -with his peacock feathers and brush the flies away. He was the sole -member of his dusky race at Mulberry who deserted “Ole Marster” to follow -the Yankees. - -Now for our losses at the Hermitage. Added to the gold-headed canes and -Claudia, we lost every mule and horse, and President Davis’s beautiful -Arabian was captured. John’s were there, too. My light dragoon, Johnny, -and heavy swell, is stripped light enough for the fight now. Jonathan, -whom we trusted, betrayed us; and the plantation and mills, Mulberry -house, etc., were saved by Claiborne, that black rascal, who was -suspected by all the world. Claiborne boldly affirmed that Mr. Chesnut -would not be hurt by destroying his place; the invaders would hurt only -the negroes. “Mars Jeems,” said he, “hardly ever come here and he takes -only a little sompen nur to eat when he do come.” - -Fever continuing, I sent for St. Julien Ravenel. We had a wrangle over -the slavery question. Then, he fell foul of everybody who had not -conducted this war according to his ideas. Ellen had something nice to -offer him (thanks to the ever-bountiful Childs!), but he was too angry, -too anxious, too miserable to eat. He pitched into Ellen after he had -disposed of me. Ellen stood glaring at him from the fireplace, her blue -eye nearly white, her other eye blazing as a comet. Last Sunday, he gave -her some Dover’s powders for me; directions were written on the paper -in which the medicine was wrapped, and he told her to show these to me, -then to put what I should give her into a wine-glass and let me drink it. -Ellen put it all into the wine-glass and let me drink it at one dose. -“It was enough to last you your lifetime,” he said. “It was murder.” -Turning to Ellen: “What did you do with the directions?” “I nuvver see -no d’rections. You nuvver gimme none.” “I told you to show that paper -to your mistress.” “Well, I flung dat ole brown paper in de fire. What -you makin’ all dis fuss for? Soon as I give Missis de physic, she stop -frettin’ an’ flingin’ ’bout, she go to sleep sweet as a suckling baby, -an’ she slep two days an’ nights, an’ now she heap better.” And Ellen -withdrew from the controversy. - -“Well, all is well that ends well, Mrs. Chesnut. You took opium enough to -kill several persons. You were worried out and needed rest. You came near -getting it—thoroughly. You were in no danger from your disease. But your -doctor and your nurse combined were deadly.” Maybe I was saved by the -adulteration, the feebleness, of Confederate medicine. - - * * * * * - -A letter from my husband, written at Chester Court House on March 15th, -says: “In the morning I send Lieut. Ogden with Lawrence to Lincolnton to -bring you down. I have three vacant rooms; one with bedsteads, chairs, -wash-stands, basins, and pitchers; the two others bare. You can have half -of a kitchen for your cooking. I have also at Dr. Da Vega’s, a room, -furnished, to which you are invited (board, also). You can take your -choice. If you can get your friends in Lincolnton to assume charge of -your valuables, only bring such as you may need here. Perhaps it will be -better to bring bed and bedding and the other indispensables.” - - - - -XX - -CHESTER, S. C. - -_March 21, 1865-May 1, 1865_ - - -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 for inspection, and he walked to the -train with us. He offered me Confederate money, silver, and gold; and -finally offered to buy our cotton and pay us now in gold. Of course, I -laughed at his overflowing bounty, and accepted nothing; but I begged him -to come down to Chester or Camden and buy our cotton of General Chesnut -there. - -On the train after leaving Lincolnton, as Captain Ogden is a refugee, -has had no means of communicating with his home since New Orleans fell, -and was sure to know how refugees contrive to live, I beguiled the time -acquiring information from him. “When people are without a cent, how do -they live?” I asked. “I am about to enter the noble band of homeless, -houseless refugees, and Confederate pay does not buy one’s shoe-strings.” -To which he replied, “Sponge, sponge. Why did you not let Colonel Childs -pay your bills?” “I have no bills,” said I. “We have never made bills -anywhere, not even at home, where they would trust us, and nobody would -trust me in Lincolnton.” “Why did you not borrow his money? General -Chesnut could pay him at his leisure?” “I am by no means sure General -Chesnut will ever again have any money,” said I. - -As the train rattled and banged along, and I waved my handkerchief in -farewell to Miss Middleton, Isabella, and other devoted friends, I could -only wonder if fate would ever throw me again with such kind, clever, -agreeable, congenial companions? The McLeans refused to be paid for their -rooms. No plummet can sound the depths of the hospitality and kindness of -the North Carolina people. - -Misfortune dogged us from the outset. Everything went wrong with the -train. We broke down within two miles of Charlotte, and had to walk that -distance; which was pretty rough on an invalid barely out of a fever. My -spirit was further broken by losing an invaluable lace veil, which was -worn because I was too poor to buy a cheaper one—that is, if there were -any veils at all for sale in our region. - -My husband had ordered me to a house in Charlotte kept by some great -friends of his. They established me in the drawing-room, a really -handsome apartment; they made up a bed there and put in a washstand -and plenty of water, with everything refreshingly clean and nice. But -it continued to be a public drawing-room, open to all, so that I was -half dead at night and wanted to go to bed. The piano was there and the -company played it. - -The landlady announced, proudly, that for supper there were nine kinds of -custard. Custard sounded nice and light, so I sent for some, but found it -heavy potato pie. I said: “Ellen, this may kill me, though Dover’s powder -did not.” “Don’t you believe dat, Missis; try.” We barricaded ourselves -in the drawing-room that night and left the next day at dawn. Arrived at -the station, we had another disappointment; the train was behind time. -There we sat on our boxes nine long hours; for the cars might come at any -moment, and we dared not move an inch from the spot. - -Finally the train rolled in overloaded with paroled prisoners, but -heaven helped us: a kind mail agent invited us, with two other forlorn -women, into his comfortable and clean mail-car. Ogden, true to his -theory, did not stay at the boarding-house as we did. Some Christian -acquaintances took him in for the night. This he explained with a grin. - -My husband was at the Chester station with a carriage. We drove at once -to Mrs. Da Vega’s. - -_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, warm, and comfortable is it. It is the drawing-room -suddenly made into a bedroom for me. But it is my very own. We are among -the civilized of the earth once more. - -_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. Yesterday at church Isaac -Hayne nestled so close to her cap-strings that I had to touch him and -say, “Sit up!” Josiah Bedon was killed in that famous fight of the -Charleston Light Dragoons. The dragoons stood still to be shot down -in their tracks, having no orders to retire. They had been forgotten, -doubtless, and they scorned to take care of themselves. - -In this high and airy retreat, as in Richmond, then in Columbia, and -then in Lincolnton, my cry is still: If they would only leave me here in -peace and if I were sure things never could be worse with me. Again am I -surrounded by old friends. People seem to vie with each other to show how -good they can be to me. - -To-day Smith opened the trenches and appeared laden with a tray covered -with a snow-white napkin. Here was my first help toward housekeeping -again. Mrs. Pride has sent a boiled ham, a loaf of bread, a huge pancake; -another neighbor coffee already parched and ground; a loaf of sugar -already cracked; candles, pickles, and all the other things one must -trust to love for now. Such money as we have avails us nothing, even if -there were anything left in the shops to buy. - -We had a jolly luncheon. James Lowndes called, the best of good company. -He said of Buck, “She is a queen, and ought to reign in a palace. No -Prince Charming yet; no man has yet approached her that I think half good -enough for her.” - -Then Mrs. Prioleau Hamilton, _née_ Levy, came with the story of family -progress, not a royal one, from Columbia here: “Before we left home,” -said she, “Major Hamilton spread a map of the United States on the table, -and showed me with his finger where Sherman was likely to go. Womanlike, -I demurred. I But, suppose he does not choose to go that way?’ ‘Pooh, -pooh! what do you know of war?’ So we set out, my husband, myself, and -two children, all in one small buggy. The 14th of February we took up -our line of march, and straight before Sherman’s men for five weeks we -fled together. By incessant hurrying and scurrying from pillar to post, -we succeeded in acting as a sort of _avant-courier_ of the Yankee army. -Without rest and with much haste, we got here last Wednesday, and here we -mean to stay and defy Sherman and his legions. Much the worse for wear -were we.” - -The first night their beauty sleep was rudely broken into at Alston with -a cry, “Move on, the Yanks are upon us!” So they hurried on, half-awake, -to Winnsboro, but with no better luck. There they had to lighten the -ship, leave trunks, etc., and put on all sail, for this time the Yankees -were only five miles behind. “Whip and spur, ride for your life!” was the -cry. “Sherman’s objective point seemed to be our buggy,” said she; “for -you know that when we got to Lancaster Sherman was expected there, and -he keeps his appointments; that is, he kept that one. Two small children -were in our chariot, and I began to think of the Red Sea expedition. But -we lost no time, and soon we were in Cheraw, clearly out of the track. We -thanked God for all his mercies and hugged to our bosoms fond hopes of a -bed and bath so much needed by all, especially for the children. - -“At twelve o’clock General Hardee himself knocked us up with word to -‘March! march!’ for ‘all the blue bonnets are over the border.’ In mad -haste we made for Fayetteville, when they said: ‘God bless your soul! -This is the seat of war now; the battle-ground where Sherman and Johnston -are to try conclusions.’ So we harked back, as the hunters say, and cut -across country, aiming for this place. Clean clothes, my dear? Never a -one except as we took off garment by garment and washed it and dried it -by our camp fire, with our loins girded and in haste.” I was snug and -comfortable all that time in Lincolnton. - - * * * * * - -To-day Stephen D. Lee’s corps marched through—only to surrender. The camp -songs of these men were a heartbreak; so sad, yet so stirring. They would -have warmed the blood of an Icelander. The leading voice was powerful, -mellow, clear, distinct, pathetic, sweet. So, I sat down, as women have -done before, when they hung up their harps by strange streams, and I wept -the bitterness of such weeping. Music? Away, away! Thou speakest to me of -things which in all my long life I have not found, and I shall not find. -There they go, the gay and gallant few, doomed; the last gathering of -the flower of Southern pride, to be killed, or worse, to a prison. They -continue to prance by, light and jaunty. They march with as airy a tread -as if they still believed the world was all on their side, and that there -were no Yankee bullets for the unwary. What will Joe Johnston do with -them now? - -The Hood melodrama is over, though the curtain has not fallen on the -last scene. Cassandra croaks and makes many mistakes, but to-day she -believes that Hood stock is going down. When that style of enthusiasm is -on the wane, the rapidity of its extinction is miraculous. It is like the -snuffing out of a candle; “one moment white, then gone forever.” No, that -is not right; it is the snow-flake on the river that is referred to. I am -getting things as much mixed as do the fine ladies of society. - -Lee and Johnston have each fought a drawn battle; only a few more dead -bodies lie stiff and stark on an unknown battle-field. For we do not so -much as know where these drawn battles took place. - -Teddy Barnwell, after sharing with me my first luncheon, failed me -cruelly. He was to come for me to go down to the train and see Isabella -pass by. One word with Isabella worth a thousand ordinary ones! So, she -has gone by and I’ve not seen her. - -Old Colonel Chesnut refuses to say grace; but as he leaves the table -audibly declares, “I thank God for a good dinner.” When asked why he did -this odd thing he said: “My way is to be sure of a thing before I return -thanks for it.” Mayor Goodwyn thanked Sherman for promised protection to -Columbia; soon after, the burning began. - -I received the wife of a post-office robber. The poor thing had done no -wrong, and I felt so sorry for her. Who would be a woman? Who that fool, -a weeping, pining, faithful woman? She hath hard measures still when she -hopes kindest. And all her beauty only makes ingrates! - -_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 of the box-car which held the -Preston party that day on their way to York from Richmond. In the party -were Mr. and Mrs. Lawson Clay, General and Mrs. Preston and their three -daughters, Captain Rodgers, and Mr. Portman, whose father is an English -earl, and connected financially and happily with Portman Square. In -my American ignorance I may not state Mr. Portman’s case plainly. Mr. -Portman is, of course, a younger son. Then there was Cellie and her baby -and wet-nurse, with no end of servants, male and female. In this ark they -slept, ate, and drank, such being the fortune of war. We were there but -a short time, but Mr. Portman, during that brief visit of ours, was said -to have eaten three luncheons, and the number of his drinks, toddies, so -called, were counted, too. Mr. Portman’s contribution to the larder had -been three small pigs. They were, however, run over by the train, and -made sausage meat of unduly and before their time. - -General Lee says to the men who shirk duty, “This is the people’s war; -when they tire, I stop.” Wigfall says, “It is all over; the game is up.” -He is on his way to Texas, and when the hanging begins he can step over -into Mexico. - -I am plucking up heart, such troops do I see go by every day. They -must turn the tide, and surely they are going for something more than -surrender. It is very late, and the wind flaps my curtain, which seems to -moan, “Too late.” All this will end by making me a nervous lunatic. - -Yesterday while I was driving with Mrs. Pride, Colonel McCaw passed -us! He called out, “I do hope you are in comfortable quarters.” “Very -comfortable,” I replied. “Oh, Mrs. Chesnut!” said Mrs. Pride, “how can -you say that?” “Perfectly comfortable, and hope it may never be worse -with me,” said I. “I have a clean little parlor, 16 by 18, with its bare -floor well scrubbed, a dinner-table, six chairs, and—well, that is all; -but I have a charming lookout from my window high. My world is now thus -divided into two parts—where Yankees are and where Yankees are not.” - -As I sat disconsolate, looking out, ready for any new tramp of men and -arms, the magnificent figure of General Preston hove in sight. He was -mounted on a mighty steed, worthy of its rider, followed by his trusty -squire, William Walker, who bore before him the General’s portmanteau. -When I had time to realize the situation, I perceived at General -Preston’s right hand Mr. Christopher Hampton and Mr. Portman, who passed -by. Soon Mrs. Pride, in some occult way, divined or heard that they -were coming here, and she sent me at once no end of good things for my -tea-table. General Preston entered very soon after, and with him Clement -Clay, of Alabama, the latter in pursuit of his wife’s trunk. I left it -with the Rev. Mr. Martin, and have no doubt it is perfectly safe, but -where? We have written to Mr. Martin to inquire. Then Wilmot de Saussure -appeared. “I am here,” he said, “to consult with General Chesnut. He and -I always think alike.” He added, emphatically: “Slavery is stronger than -ever.” “If you think so,” said I, “you will find that for once you and -General Chesnut do not think alike. He has held that slavery was a thing -of the past, this many a year.” - -I said to General Preston: “I pass my days and nights partly at this -window. I am sure our army is silently dispersing. Men are moving the -wrong way, all the time. They slip by with no songs and no shouts now. -They have given the thing up. See for yourself. Look there.” For a while -the streets were thronged with soldiers and then they were empty again. -But the marching now is without tap of drum. - -_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 was lost in admiration -of her silent dignity, her quiet self-possession, her calmness, her -deafness and blindness, her thoroughbred ignoring of all that she did -not care to see. Some women, no matter how ladylike, would have made a -fuss or would have fidgeted, but Mrs. Preston dominated the situation and -possessed her soul in innocence and peace. - -Met Robert Johnston from Camden. He has been a prisoner, having been -taken at Camden. The Yankees robbed Zack Cantey of his forks and spoons. -When Zack did not seem to like it, they laughed at him. When he said he -did not see any fun in it, they pretended to weep and wiped their eyes -with their coat-tails. All this maddening derision Zack said was as hard -to bear as it was to see them ride off with his horse, Albine. They stole -all of Mrs. Zack’s jewelry and silver. When the Yankee general heard of -it he wrote her a very polite note, saying how sorry he was that she -had been annoyed, and returned a bundle of Zack’s love-letters, written -to her before she was married. Robert Johnston said Miss Chesnut was a -brave and determined spirit. One Yankee officer came in while they were -at breakfast and sat down to warm himself at the fire. “Rebels have no -rights,” Miss Chesnut said to him politely. “I suppose you have come -to rob us. Please do so and go. Your presence agitates my blind old -father.” The man jumped up in a rage, and said, “What do you take me -for—a robber?” “No, indeed,” said she, and for very shame he marched out -empty-handed. - -_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 packed like sardines in dirty -railroad cars, usually floating inch deep in liquid tobacco juice. - -For the kitchen and Ellen’s comfort I wanted a pine table and a kitchen -chair. A woman sold me one to-day for three thousand Confederate dollars. - -Mrs. Hamilton has been disappointed again. Prioleau Hamilton says -the person into whose house they expected to move to-day came to say -she could not take boarders for three reasons: First, “that they had -small-pox in the house.” “And the two others?” “Oh, I did not ask for the -two others!” - -_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 fallen upon a new device. We keep a cookery book -on the mantelpiece, and when the dinner is deficient we just read off a -pudding or a _crême_. It does not entirely satisfy the appetite, this -dessert in imagination, but perhaps it is as good for the digestion.” - -As I was ready to go, though still up-stairs, some one came to say -General Hood had called. Mrs. Hamilton cried out, “Send word you are not -at home.” “Never!” said I. “Why make him climb all these stairs when you -must go in five minutes?” “If he had come here dragging Sherman as a -captive at his chariot wheels I might say ‘not at home,’ but not now.” -And I ran down and greeted him on the sidewalk in the face of all, and -walked slowly beside him as he toiled up the weary three stories, limping -gallantly. He was so well dressed and so cordial; not depressed in the -slightest. He was so glad to see me. He calls his report self-defense; -says Joe Johnston attacked him and he was obliged to state things from -his point of view. And now follow statements, where one may read between -the lines what one chooses. He had been offered a command in Western -Virginia, but as General Lee was concerned because he and Joe Johnston -were not on cordial terms, and as the fatigue of the mountain campaign -would be too great for him, he would like the chance of going across the -Mississippi. Texas was true to him, and would be his home, as it had -voted him a ranch somewhere out there. They say General Lee is utterly -despondent, and has no plan if Richmond goes, as go it must. - -_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 to go West—to Texas, I mean, for our own part of the -country will be overrun. - -Yes, a solitude and a wild waste it may become, but, as to that, we can -rough it in the bush at home. - -De Fontaine, in his newspaper, continues the old cry. “Now Richmond -is given up,” he says, “it was too heavy a load to carry, and we are -stronger than ever.” “Stronger than ever?” Nine-tenths of our army are -under ground and where is another army to come from? Will they wait until -we grow one? - -_April 15th._—What a week it has been—madness, sadness, anxiety, turmoil, -ceaseless excitement. The Wigfalls passed through on their way to Texas. -We did not see them. Louly told Hood they were bound for the Rio Grande, -and intended to shake hands with Maximilian, Emperor of Mexico. Yankees -were expected here every minute. Mrs. Davis came. We went down to the -cars at daylight to receive her. She dined with me. Lovely Winnie, the -baby, came, too. Buck and Hood were here, and that queen of women, Mary -Darby. Clay behaved like a trump. He was as devoted to Mrs. Davis in her -adversity as if they had never quarreled in her prosperity. People sent -me things for Mrs. Davis, as they did in Columbia for Mr. Davis. It was -a luncheon or breakfast only she stayed for here. Mrs. Brown prepared a -dinner for her at the station. I went down with her. She left here at -five o’clock. My heart was like lead, but we did not give way. She was -as calm and smiling as ever. It was but a brief glimpse of my dear Mrs. -Davis, and under altered skies. - -_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 fat and is smiling always, is christened, and not -old enough to develop the world’s vices or to be snubbed by it. The name -so long delayed is Varina Anne. My name is a heritage of woe. - -“Are you delighted with your husband? I am delighted with him as well -as with my own. It is well to lose an Arabian horse if one elicits such -a tender and at the same time knightly letter as General Chesnut wrote -to my poor old Prometheus. I do not think that for a time he felt the -vultures after the reception of the General’s letter. - -“I hear horrid reports about Richmond. It is said that all below Ninth -Street to the Rocketts has been burned by the rabble, who mobbed the -town. The Yankee performances have not been chronicled. May God take our -cause into His own hands.” - -_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 negroes and Yankees!” Buck said, “I do not -believe it.” - -How different from ours of them is their estimate of us. How -contradictory is their attitude toward us. To keep the despised and -iniquitous South within their borders, as part of their country, they -are willing to enlist millions of men at home and abroad, and to spend -billions, and we know they do not love fighting _per se_, nor spending -money. They are perfectly willing to have three killed for our one. -We hear they have all grown rich, through “shoddy,” whatever that is. -Genuine Yankees can make a fortune trading jack-knives. - -“Somehow it is borne in on me that we will have to pay the piper,” was -remarked to-day. “No; blood can not be squeezed from a turnip. You can -not pour anything out of an empty cup. We have no money even for taxes or -to be confiscated.” - -While the Preston girls are here, my dining-room is given up to them, and -we camp on the landing, with our one table and six chairs. Beds are made -on the dining-room floor. Otherwise there is no furniture, except buckets -of water and bath-tubs in their improvised chamber. Night and day this -landing and these steps are crowded with the _élite_ of the Confederacy, -going and coming, and when night comes, or rather, bedtime, more beds are -made on the floor of the landing-place for the war-worn soldiers to rest -upon. The whole house is a bivouac. As Pickens said of South Carolina in -1861, we are “an armed camp.” - -My husband is rarely at home. I sleep with the girls, and my room is -given up to soldiers. General Lee’s few, but undismayed, his remnant of -an army, or the part from the South and West, sad and crestfallen, pass -through Chester. Many discomfited heroes find their way up these stairs. -They say Johnston will not be caught as Lee was. He can retreat; that is -his trade. If he would not fight Sherman in the hill country of Georgia, -what will he do but retreat in the plains of North Carolina with Grant, -Sherman, and Thomas all to the fore? - -We are to stay here. Running is useless now; so we mean to bide a Yankee -raid, which they say is imminent. Why fly? They are everywhere, these -Yankees, like red ants, like the locusts and frogs which were the plagues -of Egypt. - -The plucky way in which our men keep up is beyond praise. There is no -howling, and our poverty is made a matter of laughing. We deride our own -penury. Of the country we try not to speak at all. - -_April 22d._—This yellow Confederate quire of paper, my journal, blotted -by entries, has been buried three days with the silver sugar-dish, -tea-pot, 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 been a wild three days, with aides galloping around with messages, -Yankees hanging over us like a sword of Damocles. We have been in queer -straits. We sat up at Mrs. Bedon’s dressed, without once going to bed for -forty-eight hours, and we were aweary. - -Colonel Cadwallader Jones came with a despatch, a sealed secret despatch. -It was for General Chesnut. I opened it. Lincoln, old Abe Lincoln, has -been killed, murdered, and Seward wounded! Why? By whom? It is simply -maddening, all this. - -I sent off messenger after messenger for General Chesnut. I have not the -faintest idea where he is, but I know this foul murder will bring upon -us worse miseries. Mary Darby says, “But they murdered him themselves. -No Confederates are in Washington.” “But if they see fit to accuse us -of instigating it?” “Who murdered him? Who knows?” “See if they don’t -take vengeance on us, now that we are ruined and can not repel them any -longer.” - -The death of Lincoln I call a warning to tyrants. He will not be the last -President put to death in the capital, though he is the first. - -Buck never submits to be bored. The bores came to tea at Mrs. Bedon’s, -and then sat and talked, so prosy, so wearisome was the discourse, so -endless it seemed, that we envied Buck, who was mooning on the piazza. -She rarely speaks now. - -[Illustration: A NEWSPAPER EXTRA.] - - HIGHLY IMPORTANT NEWS! - - AN ARMISTICE AGREED UPON!!! - - * * * * * - - Lincoln Assassinated and Seward Mortally Wounded in Washington!! - - * * * * * - - GREENSBORO, April 19, 1865. - - GENERAL ORDER NO. 14. - - It is announced to the Army that a suspension of arms has been - agreed upon pending negotiations between the two Governments. - - During its continuance the two armies are to occupy their - present position. - - By command of General Johnston: - - [SIGNED,] ARCHER ANDERSON, - Lieut. Col. and A. A. G. - - Official Copy: ISAAC HAYNE. - - * * * * * - - WASHINGTON, April 12, 1865. - - To MAJOR-GENERAL SHERMAN: - - _President Lincoln was murdered, about ten o’clock last night, - in his private box at Ford’s Theatre, in this city, by an - assassin, who shot him in the head with a pistol ball._ At the - same hour Mr. Seward’s house was entered by another assassin, - who _stabbed the Secretary in several places_. It is thought he - may possibly recover, but his son Fred may possibly die of the - wounds he received. - - The assassin of the President leaped from the private - box, brandishing his dagger and exclaiming: “_Sic Semper - Tyrannis_—VIRGINIA IS REVENGED!” Mr. Lincoln fell senseless - from his seat, and continued in that condition until 22 minutes - past 10 o’clock this morning, at which time he breathed his - last. - - Vice President Johnson now becomes President, and will take the - oath of office and assume the duties to-day. - - [SIGNED,] E. M. STANTON - - * * * * * - - TO THE CITIZENS OF CHESTER. - - CHESTER, S. C., April 22, 1865. - - FLOUR and MEAL given out to the citizens by order of Major - Mitchell, Chief Commissary of South Carolina, to be returned - when called for, is _badly wanted to ration General Johnston’s - army_. Please return the same at once. - - E. M. GRAHAM, Agent Subsistence Dep’t. - - * * * * * - - HEADQUARTERS RESERVE FORCES S. C. - - CHESTERVILLE, APRIL 20, 1865. - - The Brigadier-General Commanding has been informed that, in - view of the approach of the enemy, a large quantity of supplies - of various kinds were given out by the various Government - officers at this post to the citizens of the place. He now - calls upon, and earnestly requests all citizens, who may have - such stores in their possession, to return them to the several - Departments to which they belong. The stores are much needed at - this time for the use of soldiers, passing through the place, - and for the sick at the Hospital. - - By command of Brig. Gen. Chesnut: - - M. R. CLARK, Major and A. A. General. - -_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 a lie.” “Well, Miss Hampton, I tell the tale as -it was told me. I can do no more.” - -No wonder John Chesnut is bitter. They say Mulberry has been destroyed -by a corps commanded by General Logan. Some one asked coolly, “Will -General Chesnut be shot as a soldier, or hung as a senator?” “I am -not of sufficient consequence,” answered he. “They will stop short of -brigadiers. I resigned my seat in the United States Senate weeks before -there was any secession. So I can not be hung as a senator. But after all -it is only a choice between drumhead court martial, short shrift, and a -lingering death at home from starvation.” - -These negroes are unchanged. The shining black mask they wear does not -show a ripple of change; they are sphinxes. Ellen has had my diamonds to -keep for a week or so. When the danger was over she handed them back to -me with as little apparent interest in the matter as if they had been -garden peas. - -Mrs. Huger was in church in Richmond when the news of the surrender came. -Worshipers were in the midst of the communion service. Mr. McFarland was -called out to send away the gold from his bank. Mr. Minnegerode’s English -grew confused. Then the President was summoned, and distress of mind -showed itself in every face. The night before one of General Lee’s aides, -Walter Taylor, was married, and was off to the wars immediately after the -ceremony. - -One year ago we left Richmond. The Confederacy has double-quicked down -hill since then. One year since I stood in that beautiful Hollywood -by little Joe Davis’s grave. Now we have burned towns, deserted -plantations, sacked villages. “You seem resolute to look the worst in -the face,” said General Chesnut, wearily. “Yes, poverty, with no future -and no hope.” “But no slaves, thank God!” cried Buck. “We would be the -scorn of the world if the world thought of us at all. You see, we are -exiles and paupers.” “Pile on the agony.” “How does our famous captain, -the great Lee, bear the Yankees’ galling chain?” I asked. “He knows how -to possess his soul in patience,” answered my husband. “If there were no -such word as subjugation, no debts, no poverty, no negro mobs backed by -Yankees; if all things were well, you would shiver and feel benumbed,” -he went on, pointing at me in an oratorical attitude. “Your sentence is -pronounced—Camden for life.” - -_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, half-way -between me on the top step and John in the window, with his legs outside. -Said some one to-day, “She showed me her engagement ring, and I put it -back on her hand. She is engaged, but not to me.” “By the heaven that is -above us all, I saw you kiss her hand.” “That I deny.” Captain Gay glared -in angry surprise, and insisted that he had seen it. “Sit down, Gay,” -said the cool captain in his most mournful way. “You see, my father died -when I was a baby, and my grandfather took me in hand. To him I owe this -moral maxim. He is ninety years old, a wise old man. Now, remember my -grandfather’s teaching forever-more—‘A gentleman must not kiss and tell.’” - -General Preston came to say good-by. He will take his family abroad at -once. Burnside, in New Orleans, owes him some money and will pay it. -“There will be no more confiscation, my dear madam,” said he; “they must -see that we have been punished enough.” “They do not think so, my dear -general. This very day a party of Federals passed in hot pursuit of our -President.” - -A terrible fire-eater, one of the few men left in the world who believe -we have a right divine, being white, to hold Africans, who are black, in -bonds forever; he is six feet two; an athlete; a splendid specimen of the -animal man; but he has never been under fire; his place in the service -was a bomb-proof office, so-called. With a face red-hot with rage he -denounced Jeff Davis and Hood. “Come, now,” said Edward, the handsome, -“men who could fight and did not, they are the men who ruined us. We -wanted soldiers. If the men who are cursing Jeff Davis now had fought -with Hood, and fought as Hood fought, we’d be all right now.” - -And then he told of my trouble one day while Hood was here. “Just such a -fellow as you came up on this little platform, and before Mrs. Chesnut -could warn him, began to heap insults on Jeff Davis and his satrap, Hood. -Mrs. Chesnut held up her hands. ‘Stop, not another word. You shall not -abuse my friends here! Not Jeff Davis behind his back, not Hood to his -face, for he is in that room and hears you.’” Fancy how dumfounded this -creature was. - -Mrs. Huger told a story of Joe Johnston in his callow days before he -was famous. After an illness Johnston’s hair all fell out; not a hair -was left on his head, which shone like a fiery cannon-ball. One of the -gentlemen from Africa who waited at table sniggered so at dinner that -he was ordered out by the grave and decorous black butler. General -Huger, feeling for the agonies of young Africa, as he strove to stifle -his mirth, suggested that Joe Johnston should cover his head with his -handkerchief. A red silk one was produced, and turban-shaped, placed on -his head. That completely finished the gravity of the butler, who fled -in helplessness. His guffaw on the outside of the door became plainly -audible. General Huger then suggested, as they must have the waiter back, -or the dinner could not go on, that Joe should eat with his hat on, which -he did. - - - - -XXI - -CAMDEN, S. C. - -_May 2, 1865-August 2, 1865_ - - -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 husband said Nature is a wonderful renovator. He tried to -say something else and then I shut my eyes and made a vow that if we -were a crushed people, crushed by weight, I would never be a whimpering, -pining slave. - -We heard loud explosions of gunpowder in the direction of Camden. -Destroyers were at it there. Met William Walker, whom Mr. Preston left -in charge of a car-load of his valuables. General Preston was hardly out -of sight before poor helpless William had to stand by and see the car -plundered. “My dear Missis! they have cleaned me out, nothing left,” -moaned William the faithful. We have nine armed couriers with us. Can -they protect us? - -Bade adieu to the staff at Chester. No general ever had so remarkable a -staff, so accomplished, so agreeable, so well bred, and, I must say, so -handsome, and can add so brave and efficient. - -_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 the seventh of March, which accounts -for the wonderful advance in vegetation. This seems providential to these -starving people. In this climate so much that is edible can be grown in -two months. - -At Winnsboro we stayed at Mr. Robertson’s. There we left the wagon train. -Only Mr. Brisbane, one of the general’s couriers, came with us on escort -duty. The Robertsons were very kind and hospitable, brimful of Yankee -anecdotes. To my amazement the young people of Winnsboro had a May-day -celebration amid the smoking ruins. Irrepressible is youth. - -The fidelity of the negroes is the principal topic. There seems to be not -a single case of a negro who betrayed his master, and yet they showed a -natural and exultant joy at being free. After we left Winnsboro negroes -were seen in the fields plowing and hoeing corn, just as in antebellum -times. The fields in that respect looked quite cheerful. We did not pass -in the line of Sherman’s savages, and so saw some houses standing. - -Mary Kirkland has had experience with the Yankees. She has been -pronounced the most beautiful woman on this side of the Atlantic, and -has been spoiled accordingly in all society. When the Yankees came, -Monroe, their negro manservant, told her to stand up and hold two of her -children in her arms, with the other two pressed as close against her -knees as they could get. Mammy Selina and Lizzie then stood grimly on -each side of their young missis and her children. For four mortal hours -the soldiers surged through the rooms of the house. Sometimes Mary and -her children were roughly jostled against the wall, but Mammy and Lizzie -were stanch supporters. The Yankee soldiers taunted the negro women for -their foolishness in standing by their cruel slave-owners, and taunted -Mary with being glad of the protection of her poor ill-used slaves. -Monroe meanwhile had one leg bandaged and pretended to be lame, so that -he might not be enlisted as a soldier, and kept making pathetic appeals -to Mary. - -“Don’t answer them back, Miss Mary,” said he. “Let ’em say what dey want -to; don’t answer ’em back. Don’t give ’em any chance to say you are -impudent to ’em.” - -One man said to her: “Why do you shrink from us and avoid us so? We did -not come here to fight for negroes; we hate them. At Port Royal I saw a -beautiful white woman driving in a wagon with a coal-black negro man. If -she had been anything to me I would have shot her through the heart.” -“Oh, oh!” said Lizzie, “that’s the way you talk in here. I’ll remember -that when you begin outside to beg me to run away with you.” - -Finally poor Aunt Betsy, Mary’s mother, fainted from pure fright and -exhaustion. Mary put down her baby and sprang to her mother, who was -lying limp in a chair, and fiercely called out, “Leave this room, you -wretches! Do you mean to kill my mother? She is ill; I must put her to -bed.” Without a word they all slunk out ashamed. “If I had only tried -that hours ago,” she now said. Outside they remarked that she was “an -insolent rebel huzzy, who thinks herself too good to speak to a soldier -of the United States,” and one of them said: “Let us go in and break her -mouth.” But the better ones held the more outrageous back. Monroe slipped -in again and said: “Missy, for God’s sake, when dey come in be sociable -with ’em. Dey will kill you.” - -“Then let me die.” - -The negro soldiers were far worse than the white ones. - -Mrs. Bartow drove with me to Mulberry. On one side of the house we -found every window had been broken, every bell torn down, every piece -of furniture destroyed, and every door smashed in. But the other side -was intact. Maria Whitaker and her mother, who had been left in charge, -explained this odd state of things. The Yankees were busy as beavers, -working like regular carpenters, destroying everything when their general -came in and stopped them. He told them it was a sin to destroy a fine -old house like that, whose owner was over ninety years old. He would not -have had it done for the world. It was wanton mischief. He explained to -Maria that soldiers at such times were excited, wild, and unruly. They -carried off sacks full of our books, since unfortunately they found a -pile of empty sacks in the garret. Our books, our letters, our papers -were afterward strewn along the Charleston road. Somebody found things of -ours as far away as Vance’s Ferry. - -This was Potter’s raid.[130] Sherman took only our horses. Potter’s raid -came after Johnston’s surrender, and ruined us finally, burning our mills -and gins and a hundred bales of cotton. Indeed, nothing is left to us now -but the bare land, and the debts contracted for the support of hundreds -of negroes during the war. - -J. H. Boykin was at home at the time to look after his own interests, and -he, with John de Saussure, has saved the cotton on their estates, with -the mules and farming utensils and plenty of cotton as capital to begin -on again. The negroes would be a good riddance. A hired man would be a -good deal cheaper than a man whose father and mother, wife and twelve -children have to be fed, clothed, housed, and nursed, their taxes paid, -and their doctor’s bills, all for his half-done, slovenly, lazy work. For -years we have thought negroes a nuisance that did not pay. They pretend -exuberant loyalty to us now. Only one man of Mr. Chesnut’s left the -plantation with the Yankees. - -When the Yankees found the Western troops were not at Camden, but down -below Swift Creek, like sensible folk they came up the other way, and -while we waited at Chester for marching orders we were quickly ruined -after the surrender. With our cotton saved, and cotton at a dollar a -pound, we might be in comparatively easy circumstances. But now it is the -devil to pay, and no pitch hot. Well, all this was to be. - -Godard Bailey, editor, whose prejudices are all against us, described -the raids to me in this wise: They were regularly organized. First came -squads who demanded arms and whisky. Then came the rascals who hunted for -silver, ransacked the ladies’ wardrobes and scared women and children -into fits—at least those who could be scared. Some of these women could -not be scared. Then came some smiling, suave, well-dressed officers, who -“regretted it all so much.” Outside the gate officers, men, and bummers -divided even, share and share alike, the piles of plunder. - -When we crossed the river coming home, the ferry man at Chesnut’s Ferry -asked for his fee. Among us all we could not muster the small silver coin -he demanded. There was poverty for you. Nor did a stiver appear among us -until Molly was hauled home from Columbia, where she was waging war with -Sheriff Dent’s family. As soon as her foot touched her native heath, she -sent to hunt up the cattle. Many of our cows were found in the swamp; -like Marion’s men they had escaped the enemy. Molly sells butter for us -now on shares. - -Old Cuffey, head gardener at Mulberry, and Yellow Abram, his assistant, -have gone on in the even tenor of their way. Men may come and men may go, -but they dig on forever. And they say they mean to “as long as old master -is alive.” We have green peas, asparagus, lettuce, spinach, new potatoes, -and strawberries in abundance—enough for ourselves and plenty to give -away to refugees. It is early in May and yet two months since frost. -Surely the wind was tempered to the shorn lamb in our case. - -Johnny went over to see Hampton. His cavalry are ordered to reassemble -on the 20th—a little farce to let themselves down easily; they know it is -all over. Johnny, smiling serenely, said, “The thing is up and forever.” - -Godard Bailey has presence of mind. Anne Sabb left a gold card-case, -which was a terrible oversight, among the cards on the drawing-room -table. When the Yankee raiders saw it their eyes glistened. Godard -whispered to her: “Let them have that gilt thing and slip away and hide -the silver.” “No!” shouted a Yank, “you don’t fool me that way; here’s -your old brass thing; don’t you stir; fork over that silver.” And so they -deposited the gold card-case in Godard’s hands, and stole plated spoons -and forks, which had been left out because they were plated. Mrs. Beach -says two officers slept at her house. Each had a pillow-case crammed with -silver and jewelry—“spoils of war,” they called it. - -Floride Cantey heard an old negro say to his master: “When you all had -de power you was good to me, and I’ll protect you now. No niggers nor -Yankees shall tech you. If you want anything call for Sambo. I mean, call -for Mr. Samuel; dat my name now.” - -_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 -the Lord’s hands, and for the glory of God, doubtless, invested some -thousands of dollars in New York, where Confederate moth did not corrupt -nor Yankee bummers break through and steal. She went on to tell us: “I -have had the good things of this world, and I have enjoyed them in their -season. But I only held them as steward for God. My bread has been cast -upon the waters and will return to me.” - -E. M. Boykin said to-day: “We had a right to strike for our independence, -and we did strike a bitter blow. They must be proud to have overcome -such a foe. I dare look any man in the face. There is no humiliation -in our position after such a struggle as we made for freedom from the -Yankees.” He is sanguine. His main idea is joy that he has no negroes to -support, and need hire only those he really wants. - -Stephen Elliott told us that Sherman said to Joe Johnston, “Look out -for yourself. This agreement only binds the military, not the civil, -authorities.” Is our destruction to begin anew? For a few weeks we have -had peace. - -Sally Reynolds told a short story of a negro pet of Mrs. Kershaw’s. The -little negro clung to Mrs. Kershaw and begged her to save him. The negro -mother, stronger than Mrs. Kershaw, tore him away from her. Mrs. Kershaw -wept bitterly. Sally said she saw the mother chasing the child before -her as she ran after the Yankees, whipping him at every step. The child -yelled like mad, a small rebel blackamoor. - -_May 16th._—We are scattered and stunned, the remnant of heart left alive -within us filled with brotherly hate. We sit and wait until the drunken -tailor who rules the United States of America issues a proclamation, and -defines our anomalous position. - -Such a hue and cry, but whose fault? Everybody is blamed by somebody -else. The dead heroes left stiff and stark on the battle-field escape, -blame every man who stayed at home and did not fight. I will not stop to -hear excuses. There is not one word against those who stood out until the -bitter end, and stacked muskets at Appomattox. - -[Illustration: COL. JAMES CHESNUT, SR. - -From a Portrait in Oil by Gilbert Stuart.] - -_May 18th._—A feeling of sadness hovers over me now, day and night, which -no words of mine can express. There is a chance for plenty of character -study in this Mulberry house, if one only had the heart for it. Colonel -Chesnut, now ninety-three, blind and deaf, is apparently as strong as -ever, and certainly as resolute of will. Partly patriarch, partly grand -seigneur, this old man is of a species that we shall see no more—the -last of a race of lordly planters who ruled this Southern world, but -now a splendid wreck. His manners are unequaled still, but underneath -this smooth exterior lies the grip of a tyrant whose will has never been -crossed. I will not attempt what Lord Byron says he could not do, but -must quote again: “Everybody knows a gentleman when he sees him. I have -never met a man who could describe one.” We have had three very distinct -specimens of the genus in this house—three generations of gentlemen, each -utterly different from the other—father, son, and grandson. - -African Scipio walks at Colonel Chesnut’s side. He is six feet two, a -black Hercules, and as gentle as a dove in all his dealings with the -blind old master, who boldly strides forward, striking with his stick to -feel where he is going. The Yankees left Scipio unmolested. He told them -he was absolutely essential to his old master, and they said, “If you -want to stay so bad, he must have been good to you always.” Scip says he -was silent, for it “made them mad if you praised your master.” - -Sometimes this old man will stop himself, just as he is going off in a -fury, because they try to prevent his attempting some feat impossible -in his condition of lost faculties. He will ask gently, “I hope that I -never say or do anything unseemly! Sometimes I think I am subject to -mental aberrations.” At every footfall he calls out, “Who goes there?” If -a lady’s name is given he uncovers and stands, with hat off, until she -passes. He still has the old-world art of bowing low and gracefully. - -Colonel Chesnut came of a race that would brook no interference with -their own sweet will by man, woman, or devil. But then such manners has -he, they would clear any man’s character, if it needed it. Mrs. Chesnut, -his wife, used to tell us that when she met him at Princeton, in the -nineties of the eighteenth century, they called him “the Young Prince.” -He and Mr. John Taylor,[131] of Columbia, were the first up-country -youths whose parents were wealthy enough to send them off to college. - -When a college was established in South Carolina, Colonel John Chesnut, -the father of the aforesaid Young Prince, was on the first board of -trustees. Indeed, I may say that, since the Revolution of 1776, there has -been no convocation of the notables of South Carolina, in times of peace -and prosperity, or of war and adversity, in which a representative man -of this family has not appeared. The estate has been kept together until -now. Mrs. Chesnut said she drove down from Philadelphia on her bridal -trip, in a chariot and four—a cream-colored chariot with outriders. - -They have a saying here—on account of the large families with which -people are usually blessed, and the subdivision of property consequent -upon that fact, besides the tendency of one generation to make and to -save, and the next to idle and to squander, that there are rarely more -than three generations between shirt-sleeves and shirt-sleeves. But these -Chesnuts have secured four, from the John Chesnut who was driven out from -his father’s farm in Virginia by the French and Indians, when that father -had been killed at Fort Duquesne,[132] to the John Chesnut who saunters -along here now, the very perfection of a lazy gentleman, who cares not to -move unless it be for a fight, a dance, or a fox-hunt. - -The first comer of that name to this State was a lad when he arrived -after leaving his land in Virginia; and being without fortune otherwise, -he went into Joseph Kershaw’s grocery shop as a clerk, and the Kershaws, -I think, so remember that fact that they have it on their coat-of-arms. -Our Johnny, as he was driving me down to Mulberry yesterday, declared -himself delighted with the fact that the present Joseph Kershaw had -so distinguished himself in our war, that they might let the shop -of a hundred years ago rest for a while. “Upon my soul,” cried the -cool captain, “I have a desire to go in there and look at the Kershaw -tombstones. I am sure they have put it on their marble tablets that we -had an ancestor one day a hundred years ago who was a clerk in their -shop.” This clerk became a captain in the Revolution. - -In the second generation the shop had so far sunk that the John Chesnut -of that day refused to let his daughter marry a handsome, dissipated -Kershaw, and she, a spoiled beauty, who could not endure to obey orders -when they were disagreeable to her, went up to her room and therein -remained, never once coming out of it for forty years. Her father let her -have her own way in that; he provided servants to wait upon her and every -conceivable luxury that she desired, but neither party would give in. - -I am, too, thankful that I am an old woman, forty-two my last birthday. -There is so little life left in me now to be embittered by this agony. -“Nonsense! I am a pauper,” says my husband, “and I am as smiling and as -comfortable as ever you saw me.” “When you have to give up your horses? -How then?” - -_May 21st._—They say Governor Magrath has absconded, and that the Yankees -have said, “If you have no visible governor, we will send you one.” If we -had one and they found him, they would clap him in prison instanter. - -The negroes have flocked to the Yankee squad which has recently come, but -they were snubbed, the rampant freedmen. “Stay where you are,” say the -Yanks. “We have nothing for you.” And they sadly “peruse” their way. Now -that they have picked up that word “peruse,” they use it in season and -out. When we met Mrs. Preston’s William we asked, “Where are you going?” -“Perusing my way to Columbia,” he answered. - -When the Yanks said they had no rations for idle negroes, John Walker -answered mildly, “This is not at all what we expected.” The colored -women, dressed in their gaudiest array, carried bouquets to the Yankees, -making the day a jubilee. But in this house there is not the slightest -change. Every negro has known for months that he or she was free, but I -do not see one particle of change in their manner. They are, perhaps, -more circumspect, polite, and quiet, but that is all. Otherwise all goes -on in antebellum _statu quo_. Every day I expect to miss some familiar -face, but so far have been disappointed. - -Mrs. Huger we found at the hotel here, and we brought her to Bloomsbury. -She told us that Jeff Davis was traveling leisurely with his wife twelve -miles a day, utterly careless whether he were taken prisoner or not, and -that General Hampton had been paroled. - -Fighting Dick Anderson and Stephen Elliott, of Fort Sumter memory, are -quite ready to pray for Andy Johnson, and to submit to the powers that -be. Not so our belligerent clergy. “Pray for people when I wish they were -dead?” cries Rev. Mr. Trapier. “No, never! I will pray for President -Davis till I die. I will do it to my last gasp. My chief is a prisoner, -but I am proud of him still. He is a spectacle to gods and men. He -will bear himself as a soldier, a patriot, a statesman, a Christian -gentleman. He is the martyr of our cause.” And I replied with my tears. - -“Look here: taken in woman’s clothes?” asked Mr. Trapier. “Rubbish, -stuff, and nonsense. If Jeff Davis has not the pluck of a true man, then -there is no courage left on this earth. If he does not die game, I give -it up. Something, you see, was due to Lincoln and the Scotch cap that -he hid his ugly face with, in that express car, when he rushed through -Baltimore in the night. It is that escapade of their man Lincoln that set -them on making up the woman’s clothes story about Jeff Davis.” - -Mrs. W. drove up. She, too, is off for New York, to sell four hundred -bales of cotton and a square, or something, which pays tremendously in -the Central Park region, and to capture and bring home her _belle fille_, -who remained North during the war. She knocked at my door. The day was -barely dawning. I was in bed, and as I sprang up, discovered that my old -Confederate night-gown had to be managed, it was so full of rents. I am -afraid I gave undue attention to the sad condition of my gown, but could -nowhere see a shawl to drape my figure. - -She was very kind. In case my husband was arrested and needed funds, she -offered me some “British securities” and bonds. We were very grateful, -but we did not accept the loan of money, which would have been almost -the same as a gift, so slim was our chance of repaying it. But it was a -generous thought on her part; I own that. - -Went to our plantation, the Hermitage, yesterday. Saw no change; not a -soul was absent from his or her post. I said, “Good colored folks, when -are you going to kick off the traces and be free?” In their furious, -emotional way, they swore devotion to us all to their dying day. Just the -same, the minute they see an opening to better themselves they will move -on. William, my husband’s foster-brother, came up. “Well, William, what -do you want?” asked my husband. “Only to look at you, marster; it does -me good.” - -_June 1st._—The New York Herald quotes General Sherman as saying, -“Columbia was burned by Hampton’s sheer stupidity.” But then who burned -everything on the way in Sherman’s march to Columbia, and in the line -of march Sherman took after leaving Columbia? We came, for three days -of travel, over a road that had been laid bare by Sherman’s torches. -Nothing but smoking ruins was left in Sherman’s track. That I saw with -my own eyes. No living thing was left, no house for man or beast. They -who burned the countryside for a belt of forty miles, did they not -also burn the town? To charge that to “Hampton’s stupidity” is merely -an afterthought. This Herald announces that Jeff Davis will be hanged -at once, not so much for treason as for his assassination of Lincoln. -“Stanton,” the Herald says, “has all the papers in his hands to convict -him.” - -The Yankees here say, “The black man must go as the red man has gone; -this is a white man’s country.” The negroes want to run with the hare, -but hunt with the hounds. They are charming in their professions to us, -but declare that they are to be paid by these blessed Yankees in lands -and mules for having been slaves. They were so faithful to us during the -war, why should the Yankees reward them, to which the only reply is that -it would be by way of punishing rebels. - -Mrs. Adger[133] saw a Yankee soldier strike a woman, and she prayed God -to take him in hand according to his deed. The soldier laughed in her -face, swaggered off, stumbled down the steps, and then his revolver went -off by the concussion and shot him dead. - -The black ball is in motion. Mrs. de Saussure’s cook shook the dust -off her feet and departed from her kitchen to-day—free, she said. The -washerwoman is packing to go. - -Scipio Africanus, the Colonel’s body-servant, is a soldierly looking -black creature, fit to have delighted the eyes of old Frederick William -of Prussia, who liked giants. We asked him how the Yankees came to leave -him. “Oh, I told them marster couldn’t do without me nohow; and then I -carried them some nice hams that they never could have found, they were -hid so good.” - -Eben dressed himself in his best and went at a run to meet his Yankee -deliverers—so he said. At the gate he met a squad coming in. He had -adorned himself with his watch and chain, like the cordage of a ship, -with a handful of gaudy seals. He knew the Yankees came to rob white -people, but he thought they came to save niggers. “Hand over that -watch!” they said. Minus his fine watch and chain, Eben returned a -sadder and a wiser man. He was soon in his shirt-sleeves, whistling at -his knife-board. “Why? You here? Why did you come back so soon?” he was -asked. “Well, I thought may be I better stay with ole marster that give -me the watch, and not go with them that stole it.” The watch was the -pride of his life. The iron had entered his soul. - -Went up to my old house, “Kamschatka.” The Trapiers live there now. In -those drawing-rooms where the children played Puss in Boots, where we -have so often danced and sung, but never prayed before, Mr. Trapier -held his prayer-meeting. I do not think I ever did as much weeping or -as bitter in the same space of time. I let myself go; it did me good. -I cried with a will. He prayed that we might have strength to stand up -and bear our bitter disappointment, to look on our ruined homes and our -desolated country and be strong. And he prayed for the man “we elected -to be our ruler and guide.” We knew that they had put him in a dungeon -and in chains.[134] Men watch him day and night. By orders of Andy, -the bloody-minded tailor, nobody above the rank of colonel can take -the benefit of the amnesty oath, nobody who owns over twenty thousand -dollars, or who has assisted the Confederates. And now, ye rich men, -howl, for your misery has come upon you. You are beyond the outlaw, -camping outside. Howell Cobb and R. M. T. Hunter have been arrested. Our -turn will come next, maybe. A Damocles sword hanging over a house does -not conduce to a pleasant life. - -_June 12th._—Andy, made lord of all by the madman, Booth, says, -“Destruction only to the wealthy classes.” Better teach the negroes to -stand alone before you break up all they leaned on, O Yankees! After all, -the number who possess over $20,000 are very few. - -Andy has shattered some fond hopes. He denounces Northern men who came -South to espouse our cause. They may not take the life-giving oath. My -husband will remain quietly at home. He has done nothing that he had not -a right to do, nor anything that he is ashamed of. He will not fly from -his country, nor hide anywhere in it. These are his words. He has a huge -volume of Macaulay, which seems to absorb him. Slily I slipped Silvio -Pellico in his way. He looked at the title and moved it aside. “Oh,” said -I, “I only wanted you to refresh your memory as to a prisoner’s life and -what a despotism can do to make its captives happy!” - -Two weddings—in Camden, Ellen Douglas Ancrum to Mr. Lee, engineer and -architect, a clever man, which is the best investment now. In Columbia, -Sally Hampton and John Cheves Haskell, the bridegroom, a brave, one-armed -soldier. - -A wedding to be. Lou McCord’s. And Mrs. McCord is going about -frantically, looking for eggs “to mix and make into wedding-cake,” and -finding none. She now drives the funniest little one-mule vehicle. - - * * * * * - -I have been ill since I last wrote in this journal. Serena’s letter came. -She says they have been visited by bush-whackers, the roughs that always -follow in the wake of an army. My sister Kate they forced back against -the wall. She had Katie, the baby, in her arms, and Miller, the brave -boy, clung to his mother, though he could do no more. They tried to pour -brandy down her throat. They knocked Mary down with the butt end of a -pistol, and Serena they struck with an open hand, leaving the mark on her -cheek for weeks. - -Mr. Christopher Hampton says in New York people have been simply -intoxicated with the fumes of their own glory. Military prowess is a -new wrinkle of delight to them. They are mad with pride that, ten to -one, they could, after five years’ hard fighting, prevail over us, -handicapped, as we were, with a majority of aliens, _quasi_ foes, and -negro slaves whom they tried to seduce, shut up with us. They pay us the -kind of respectful fear the British meted out to Napoleon when they sent -him off with Sir Hudson Lowe to St. Helena, the lone rock by the sea, to -eat his heart out where he could not alarm them more. - -Of course, the Yankees know and say they were too many for us, and yet -they would all the same prefer not to try us again. Would Wellington be -willing to take the chances of Waterloo once more with Grouchy, Blücher, -and all that left to haphazard? Wigfall said to old Cameron[135] in -1861, “Then you will a sutler be, and profit shall accrue.” Christopher -Hampton says that in some inscrutable way in the world North, everybody -“has contrived to amass fabulous wealth by this war.” - -There are two classes of vociferous sufferers in this community: 1. Those -who say, “If people would only pay me what they owe me!” 2. Those who -say, “If people would only let me alone. I can not pay them. I could -stand it if I had anything with which to pay debts.” - -Now we belong to both classes. Heavens! the sums people owe us and will -not, or can not, pay, would settle all our debts ten times over and leave -us in easy circumstances for life. But they will not pay. How can they? - -We are shut in here, turned with our faces to a dead wall. No mails. A -letter is sometimes brought by a man on horseback, traveling through the -wilderness made by Sherman. All railroads have been destroyed and the -bridges are gone. We are cut off from the world, here to eat out our -hearts. Yet from my window I look out on many a gallant youth and maiden -fair. The street is crowded and it is a gay sight. Camden is thronged -with refugees from the low country, and here they disport themselves. -They call the walk in front of Bloomsbury “the Boulevard.” - -H. Lang tells us that poor Sandhill Milly Trimlin is dead, and that as a -witch she had been denied Christian burial. Three times she was buried in -consecrated ground in different churchyards, and three times she was dug -up by a superstitious horde, who put her out of their holy ground. Where -her poor, old, ill-used bones are lying now I do not know. I hope her -soul is faring better than her body. She was a good, kind creature. Why -supposed to be a witch? That H. Lang could not elucidate. - -Everybody in our walk of life gave Milly a helping hand. She was a -perfect specimen of the Sandhill “tackey” race, sometimes called -“country crackers.” Her skin was yellow and leathery, even the whites -of her eyes were bilious in color. She was stumpy, strong, and lean, -hard-featured, horny-fisted. Never were people so aided in every way as -these Sandhillers. Why do they remain Sandhillers from generation to -generation? Why should Milly never have bettered her condition? - -My grandmother lent a helping hand to her grandmother. My mother did -her best for her mother, and I am sure the so-called witch could never -complain of me. As long as I can remember, gangs of these Sandhill women -traipsed in with baskets to be filled by charity, ready to carry away -anything they could get. All are made on the same pattern, more or less -alike. They were treated as friends and neighbors, not as beggars. They -were asked in to take seats by the fire, and there they sat for hours, -stony-eyed, silent, wearing out human endurance and politeness. But their -husbands and sons, whom we never saw, were citizens and voters! When -patience was at its last ebb, they would open their mouths and loudly -demand whatever they had come to seek. - -One called Judy Bradly, a one-eyed virago, who played the fiddle at -all the Sandhill dances and fandangoes, made a deep impression on my -youthful mind. Her list of requests was always rather long, and once my -grandmother grew restive and actually hesitated. “Woman, do you mean to -let me starve?” she cried furiously. My grandmother then attempted a meek -lecture as to the duty of earning one’s bread. Judy squared her arms -akimbo and answered, “And pray, who made you a judge of the world? Lord, -Lord, if I had ’er knowed I had ter stand all this jaw, I wouldn’t a took -your ole things,” but she did take them and came afterward again and -again. - -_June 27th._—An awful story from Sumter. An old gentleman, who thought -his son dead or in a Yankee prison, heard some one try the front door. It -was about midnight, and these are squally times. He called out, “What is -that?” There came no answer. After a while he heard some one trying to -open a window and he fired. The house was shaken by a fall. Then, after -a long time of dead silence, he went round the house to see if his shot -had done any harm, and found his only son bathed in his own blood on his -father’s door-step. The son was just back from a Yankee prison—one of his -companions said—and had been made deaf by cold and exposure. He did not -hear his father hail him. He had tried to get into the house in the same -old way he used to employ when a boy. - -My sister-in-law in tears of rage and despair, her servants all gone to -“a big meeting at Mulberry,” though she had made every appeal against -their going. “Send them adrift,” some one said, “they do not obey you, or -serve you; they only live on you.” It would break her heart to part with -one of them. But that sort of thing will soon right itself. They will go -off _to better themselves_—we have only to cease paying wages—and that is -easy, for we have no money. - -_July 4th._—Saturday I was in bed with one of my worst headaches. -Occasionally there would come a sob and I thought of my sister insulted -and my little sweet Williams. Another of my beautiful Columbia quartette -had rough experiences. A raider asked the plucky little girl, Lizzie -Hamilton, for a ring which she wore. “You shall not have it,” she said. -The man put a pistol to her head, saying, “Take it off, hand it to me, -or I will blow your brains out.” “Blow away,” said she. The man laughed -and put down his pistol, remarking, “You knew I would not hurt you.” -“Of course, I knew you dared not shoot me. Even Sherman would not stand -that.” - -[Illustration: SARSFIELD, NEAR CAMDEN, S. C. - -Built by General Chesnut after the War, and the Home of himself and Mrs. -Chesnut until they Died. - -From a Recent Photograph.] - -There was talk of the negroes where the Yankees had been—negroes who -flocked to them and showed them where silver and valuables had been -hid by the white people. Ladies’-maids dressed themselves in their -mistresses’ gowns before the owners’ faces and walked off. Now, before -this every one had told me how kind, faithful, and considerate the -negroes had proven. I am sure, after hearing these tales, the fidelity -of my own servants shines out brilliantly. I had taken their conduct too -much as a matter of course. In the afternoon I had some business on our -place, the Hermitage. John drove me down. Our people were all at home, -quiet, orderly, respectful, and at their usual work. In point of fact -things looked unchanged. There was nothing to show that any one of them -had even seen the Yankees, or knew that there was one in existence. - -_July 26th._—I do not write often now, not for want of something to say, -but from a loathing of all I see and hear, and why dwell upon those -things? - -Colonel Chesnut, poor old man, is worse—grows more restless. He seems -to be wild with “homesickness.” He wants to be at Mulberry. When -there he can not see the mighty giants of the forest, the huge, old, -wide-spreading oaks, but he says he feels that he is there so soon as he -hears the carriage rattling across the bridge at the Beaver Dam. - -I am reading French with Johnny—anything to keep him quiet. We gave a -dinner to his company, the small remnant of them, at Mulberry house. -About twenty idle negroes, trained servants, came without leave or -license and assisted. So there was no expense. They gave their time and -labor for a good day’s feeding. I think they love to be at the old place. - -Then I went up to nurse Kate Withers. That lovely girl, barely eighteen, -died of typhoid fever. Tanny wanted his sweet little sister to have -a dress for Mary Boykin’s wedding, where she was to be one of the -bridesmaids. So Tanny took his horses, rode one, and led the other thirty -miles in the broiling sun to Columbia, where he sold the led horse and -came back with a roll of Swiss muslin. As he entered the door, he saw -Kate lying there dying. She died praying that she might die. She was -weary of earth and wanted to be at peace. I saw her die and saw her put -in her coffin. No words of mine can tell how unhappy I am. Six young -soldiers, her friends, were her pall-bearers. As they marched out with -that burden sad were their faces. - -Princess Bright Eyes writes: “Our soldier boys returned, want us to -continue our weekly dances.” Another maiden fair indites: “Here we have -a Yankee garrison. We are told the officers find this the dullest place -they were ever in. They want the ladies to get up some amusement for -them. They also want to get into society.” - -From Isabella in Columbia: “General Hampton is home again. He looks -crushed. How can he be otherwise? His beautiful home is in ruins, and -ever present with him must be the memory of the death tragedy which -closed forever the eyes of his glorious boy, Preston! Now! there strikes -up a serenade to General Ames, the Yankee commander, by a military band, -of course.... Your last letters have been of the meagerest. What is the -matter?” - - * * * * * - -_August 2d._—Dr. Boykin and John Witherspoon were talking of a nation in -mourning, of blood poured out like rain on the battle-fields—for what? -“Never let me hear that the blood of the brave has been shed in vain! No; -it sends a cry down through all time.” - - - - -FOOTNOTES - - -[1] A reference to John Brown of Harper’s Ferry. - -[2] This and other French names to be met with in this Diary are of -Huguenot origin. - -[3] A reference to what was known as “the Bluffton movement” of 1844, in -South Carolina. It aimed at secession, but was voted down. - -[4] Francis W. Pickens, Governor of South Carolina, 1860-62. He had been -elected to Congress in 1834 as a Nullifier, but had voted against the -“Bluffton movement.” From 1858 to 1860, he was Minister to Russia. He was -a wealthy planter and had fame as an orator. - -[5] The Convention, which on December 20, 1860, passed the famous -Ordinance of Secession, and had first met in Columbia, the State capital. - -[6] Robert Anderson, Major of the First Artillery, United States Army, -who, on November 20, 1860, was placed in command of the troops in -Charleston harbor. On the night of December 26th, fearing an attack, he -had moved his command to Fort Sumter. Anderson was a graduate of West -Point and a veteran of the Black Hawk, Florida, and Mexican Wars. - -[7] A native of Georgia, Howell Cobb had long served in Congress, and in -1849 was elected Speaker. In 1851 he was elected Governor of Georgia, and -in 1857 became Secretary of the Treasury in Buchanan’s Administration. -In 1861 he was a delegate from Georgia to the Provisional Congress which -adopted the Constitution of the Confederacy, and presided over each of -its four sessions. - -[8] Andrew Bary Moore, elected Governor of Alabama in 1859. In 1861, -before Alabama seceded, he directed the seizure of United States forts -and arsenals and was active afterward in the equipment of State troops. - -[9] Robert Toombs, a native of Georgia, who early acquired fame as a -lawyer, served in the Creek War under General Scott, became known in 1842 -as a “State Rights Whig,” being elected to Congress, where he was active -in the Compromise measures of 1850. He served in the United States Senate -from 1853 to 1861, where he was a pronounced advocate of the sovereignty -of States, the extension of slavery, and secession. He was a member of -the Confederate Congress at its first session and, by a single vote, -failed of election as President of the Confederacy. After the war, he was -conspicuous for his hostility to the Union. - -[10] Robert Woodward Barnwell, of South Carolina, a graduate of Harvard, -twice a member of Congress and afterward United States Senator. In -1860, after the passage of the Ordinance of Secession, he was one of -the Commissioners who went to Washington to treat with the National -Government for its property within the State. He was a member of the -Convention at Montgomery and gave the casting vote which made Jefferson -Davis President of the Confederacy. - -[11] Alexander H. Stephens, the eminent statesman of Georgia, who before -the war had been conspicuous in all the political movements of his time -and in 1861 became Vice-President of the Confederacy. After the war he -again became conspicuous in Congress and wrote a history entitled “The -War between the States.” - -[12] Benjamin H. Hill, who had already been active in State and National -affairs when the Secession movement was carried through. He had been an -earnest advocate of the Union until in Georgia the resolution was passed -declaring that the State ought to secede. He then became a prominent -supporter of secession. He was a member of the Confederate Congress, -which met in Montgomery in 1861, and served in the Confederate Senate -until the end of the war. After the war, he was elected to Congress and -opposed the Reconstruction policy of that body. In 1877 he was elected -United States Senator from Georgia. - -[13] Governor Herschel V. Johnson also declined, and doubtless for -similar reasons, to accept a challenge from Alexander H. Stephens, who, -though endowed with the courage of a gladiator, was very small and frail. - -[14] It was at this Congress that Jefferson Davis, on February 9, 1861, -was elected President, and Alexander H. Stephens Vice-President of the -Confederacy. The Congress continued to meet in Montgomery until its -removal to Richmond, in July, 1861. - -[15] Stephen R. Mallory was the son of a shipmaster of Connecticut, who -had settled in Key West in 1820. From 1851 to 1861 Mr. Mallory was United -States Senator from Florida, and after the formation of the Confederacy, -became its Secretary of the Navy. - -[16] John Archibald Campbell, who had settled in Montgomery and was -appointed Associate Justice of the United States Supreme Court by -President Pierce in 1853. Before he resigned, he exerted all his -influence to prevent Civil War and opposed secession, although he -believed that States had a right to secede. - -[17] Mrs. Chesnut’s father was Stephen Decatur Miller, who was born in -South Carolina in 1787, and died in Mississippi in 1838. He was elected -to Congress in 1816, as an Anti-Calhoun Democrat, and from 1828 to 1830 -was Governor of South Carolina. He favored Nullification, and in 1830 was -elected United States Senator from South Carolina, but resigned three -years afterward in consequence of ill health. In 1835 he removed to -Mississippi and engaged in cotton growing. - -[18] John C. Calhoun had died in March, 1850. - -[19] Joseph B. Kershaw, a native of Camden, S. C., who became famous in -connection with “The Kershaw Brigade” and its brilliant record at Bull -Run, Fredericksburg, Chickamauga, Spottsylvania, and elsewhere throughout -the war. - -[20] Colonel Chesnut, the author’s father-in-law, was born about 1760. -He was a prominent South Carolina planter and a public-spirited man. -The family had originally settled in Virginia, where the farm had been -overrun by the French and Indians at the time of Braddock’s campaign, the -head of the family being killed at Fort Duquesne. Colonel Chesnut, of -Mulberry, had been educated at Princeton, and his wife was a Philadelphia -woman. In the final chapter of this Diary, the author gives a charming -sketch of Colonel Chesnut. - -[21] John Lawrence Manning was a son of Richard I. Manning, a former -Governor of South Carolina. He was himself elected Governor of that State -in 1852, was a delegate to the convention that nominated Buchanan, and -during the War of Secession served on the staff of General Beauregard. In -1865 he was chosen United States Senator from South Carolina, but was not -allowed to take his seat. - -[22] Son of Langdon Cheves, an eminent lawyer of South Carolina, who -served in Congress from 1810 to 1814; he was elected Speaker of the House -of Representatives, and from 1819 to 1823 was President of the United -States Bank; he favored Secession, but died before it was accomplished—in -1857. - -[23] William Henry Trescott, a native of Charleston, was Assistant -Secretary of State of the United States in 1860, but resigned after South -Carolina seceded. After the war he had a successful career as a lawyer -and diplomatist. - -[24] James Louis Petigru before the war had reached great distinction -as a lawyer and stood almost alone in his State as an opponent of -the Nullification movement of 1830-1832. In 1860 he strongly opposed -disunion, although he was then an old man of 71. His reputation has -survived among lawyers because of the fine work he did in codifying the -laws of South Carolina. - -[25] John Hugh Means was elected Governor of South Carolina in 1850, -and had long been an advocate of secession. He was a delegate to the -Convention of 1860 and affixed his name to the Ordinance of Secession. He -was killed at the second battle of Bull Run in August, 1862. - -[26] James H. Adams was a graduate of Yale, who in 1832 strongly opposed -Nullification, and in 1855 was elected Governor of South Carolina. - -[27] Pierre Gustave Toutant Beauregard was born in New Orleans in 1818, -and graduated from West Point in the class of 1838. He served in the -war with Mexico; had been superintendent of the Military Academy at -West Point a few days only, when in February, 1861, he resigned his -commission in the Army of the United States and offered his services to -the Confederacy. - -[28] Louis Trezevant Wigfall was a native of South Carolina, but removed -to Texas after being admitted to the bar, and from that State was elected -United States Senator, becoming an uncompromising defender of the South -on the slave question. After the war he lived in England, but in 1873 -settled in Baltimore. He had a wide Southern reputation as a forcible and -impassioned speaker. - -[29] The annual balls of the St. Cecilia Society in Charleston are still -the social events of the season. To become a member of the St. Cecilia -Society is a sort of presentation at court in the sense of giving social -recognition to one who was without the pale. - -[30] Charles Cotesworth Pinckney was a brigadier-general in the -Revolution and a member of the Convention that framed the Constitution -of the United States. He was an ardent Federalist and twice declined -to enter a National Cabinet, but in 1796 accepted the office of -United States Minister to France. He was the Federalist candidate -for Vice-President in 1800 and for President in 1804 and 1808. Other -distinguished men in this family were Thomas, Charles, Henry Laurens, and -Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, the second. - -[31] Caroline Hampton, a daughter of General Wade Hampton, of the -Revolution, was the wife of John S. Preston, an ardent advocate of -secession, who served on the staff of Beauregard at Bull Run and -subsequently reached the rank of brigadier-general. - -[32] William Howard Russell, a native of Dublin, who served as a -correspondent of the London Times during the Crimean War, the Indian -Mutiny, the War of Secession and the Franco-German War. He has been -familiarly known as “Bull Run Russell.” In 1875 he was honorary Secretary -to the Prince of Wales during the Prince’s visit to India. - -[33] The “Sally Baxter” of the recently published “Thackeray Letters to -an American Family.” - -[34] William Gilmore Simms, the Southern novelist, was born in Charleston -in 1806. He was the author of a great many volumes dealing with Southern -life, and at one time they were widely read. - -[35] Wade Hampton was a son of another Wade Hampton, who was an aide to -General Jackson at the battle of New Orleans, and a grandson of still -another Wade Hampton, who was a general in the Revolution. He was not -in favor of secession, but when the war began he enlisted as a private -and then raised a command of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, which as -“Hampton’s Legion” won distinction in the war. After the war, he was -elected Governor of South Carolina and was then elected to the United -States Senate. - -[36] John Hemphill was a native of South Carolina, who had removed to -Texas, where he became Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the State, -and in 1858 was elected United States Senator. - -[37] Matthias Ward was a native of Georgia, but had removed to Texas in -1836. He was twice a delegate to National Democratic Conventions, and -in 1858 was appointed to fill a vacancy from Texas in the United States -Senate, holding that office until 1860. - -[38] Mrs. Johnston was Lydia McLane, a daughter of Louis McLane, United -States Senator from Delaware from 1827 to 1829, and afterward Minister -to England. In 1831 he became Secretary of the Treasury and in 1833 -Secretary of State. General Joseph E. Johnston was graduated from West -Point in 1829 and had served in the Black Hawk, Seminole, and Mexican -Wars. He resigned his commission in the United States Army on April 22, -1861. - -[39] Mr. Hunter was a Virginian. He had long served in Congress, was -twice speaker of the House, and in 1844 was elected a United States -Senator, serving until 1861. He supported slavery and became active in -the secession movement. At the Charleston Convention in 1860, he received -the next highest vote to Stephen A. Douglas for President. - -[40] Ephraim Elmer Ellsworth was a native of Saratoga County, New York. -In 1860 he organized a regiment of Zouaves and became its Colonel. He -accompanied Lincoln to Washington in 1861 and was soon sent with his -regiment to Alexandria, where, on seeing a Confederate flag floating from -a hotel, he personally rushed to the roof and tore it down. The owner of -the hotel, a man named Jackson, met him as he was descending and shot him -dead. Frank E. Brownell, one of Ellsworth’s men, then killed Jackson. - -[41] William H. Emory had served in Charleston harbor during the -Nullification troubles of 1831-1836. In 1846 he went to California, -afterward served in the Mexican War, and later assisted in running the -boundary line between Mexico and the United States under the Gadsden -Treaty of 1853. In 1854 he was in Kansas and in 1858 in Utah. After -resigning his commission, as related by the author, he was reappointed a -Lieutenant-Colonel in the United States Army and took an active part in -the war on the side of the North. - -[42] John Bankhead Magruder was a graduate of West Point, who had served -in the Mexican War, and afterward while stationed at Newport, R. I., had -become famous for his entertainments. When Virginia seceded, he resigned -his commission in the United States Army. After the war he settled in -Houston, Texas. - -The battle of Big Bethel was fought on June 10, 1861. The Federals lost -in killed and wounded about 100, among them Theodore Winthrop, of New -York, author of Cecil Dreeme. The Confederate losses were very slight. - -[43] The battle of the Cowpens in South Carolina was fought on January -17, 1781; the British, under Colonel Tarleton, being defeated by General -Morgan, with a loss to the British of 300 killed and wounded and 500 -prisoners. - -[44] Horace Binney, one of the foremost lawyers of Philadelphia, who -was closely associated with the literary, scientific, and philanthropic -interests of his time. His wife was a sister of Mrs. Chesnut, the -author’s mother-in-law. - -[45] Lucius Quintus Cincinnatus Lamar, a native of Georgia and of -Huguenot descent, who got his classical names from his father: his father -got them from an uncle who claimed the privilege of bestowing upon his -nephew the full name of his favorite hero. When the war began, Mr. Lamar -had lived for some years in Mississippi, where he had become successful -as a lawyer and had been elected to Congress. He entered the Confederate -Army as the Colonel of a Mississippi regiment. He served in Congress -after the war and was elected to the United States Senate in 1877. In -1885 he became Secretary of the Interior, and in 1888, a justice of the -United States Supreme Court. - -[46] Bradley Tyler Johnson, a native of Maryland, and graduate of -Princeton, who had studied law at Harvard. At the beginning of the war he -organized a company at his own expense in defense of the South. He was -the author of a Life of General Joseph E. Johnston. - -[47] Faustin Elie Soulouque, a negro slave of Hayti, who, having been -freed, took part in the insurrection against the French in 1803, and rose -by successive steps until in August, 1849, by the unanimous action of the -parliament, he was proclaimed emperor. - -[48] At Camden in August, 1780, was fought a battle between General -Gates and Lord Cornwallis, in which Gates was defeated. In April of the -following year near Camden, Lord Rawdon defeated General Greene. - -[49] Augustus Baldwin Longstreet had great distinction in the South as a -lawyer, clergyman, teacher, journalist, and author, and was successively -president of five different colleges. His Georgia Scenes, a series of -humorous papers, enjoyed great popularity for many years. - -[50] Rev. Robert Barnwell, nephew of Hon. Robert Barnwell, established in -Richmond a hospital for South Carolinians. - -[51] The first battle of Bull Run, or Manassas, fought on July 21, 1861, -the Confederates being commanded by General Beauregard, and the Federals -by General McDowell. Bull Run is a small stream tributary to the Potomac. - -[52] Edmund Kirby Smith, a native of Florida, who had graduated from West -Point, served in the Mexican War, and been Professor of Mathematics at -West Point. He resigned his commission in the United States Army after -the secession of Florida. - -[53] Henry Wilson, son of a farm laborer and self-educated, who rose -to much prominence in the Anti-Slavery contests before the war. He was -elected United States Senator from Massachusetts in 1855, holding the -office until 1873, when he resigned, having been elected Vice-President -of the United States on the ticket with Ulysses S. Grant. - -[54] James Harlan, United States Senator from Iowa from 1855 to 1865. In -1865 he was appointed Secretary of the Interior. - -[55] Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, a grandson of Napoleon Bonaparte’s -brother Jerome and of Elizabeth Patterson of Baltimore. He was a graduate -of West Point, but had entered the French Army, where he saw service in -the Crimea, Algiers, and Italy, taking part in the battle of Balaklava, -the siege of Sebastopol, and the battle of Solferino. He died in -Massachusetts in 1893. - -[56] Mrs. Davis was born in Natchez, Mississippi, and educated in -Philadelphia. She was married to Mr. Davis in 1845. In recent years her -home has been in New York City, where she still resides (Dec. 1904). - -[57] Samuel Barron was a native of Virginia, who had risen to be a -captain in the United States Navy. At the time of Secession he received a -commission as Commodore in the Confederate Navy. - -[58] The reference is to John Bright, whose advocacy of the cause of the -Union in the British Parliament attracted a great deal of attention at -the time. - -[59] James Murray Mason was a grandson of George Mason, and had been -elected United States Senator from Virginia in 1847. In 1851 he drafted -the Fugitive Slave Law. His mission to England in 1861 was shared by -John Slidell. On November 8, 1861, while on board the British steamer -Trent, in the Bahamas, they were captured by an American named Wilkes, -and imprisoned in Boston until January 2, 1862. A famous diplomatic -difficulty arose with England over this affair. John Slidell was a native -of New York, who had settled in Louisiana and became a Member of Congress -from that State in 1843. In 1853 he was elected to the United States -Senate. - -[60] The battle of Rich Mountain, in Western Virginia, was fought July -11, 1861, and General Garnett, Commander of the Confederate forces, -pursued by General McClellan, was killed at Carrick’s Ford, July 13th, -while trying to rally his rear-guard. - -[61] William Lowndes Yancey was a native of Virginia, who settled in -Alabama, and in 1844 was elected to Congress, where he became a leader -among the supporters of slavery and an advocate of secession. He was -famous in his day as an effective public speaker. - -[62] By reason of illness, preoccupation in other affairs, and various -deterrent causes besides, Mrs. Chesnut allowed a considerable period to -elapse before making another entry in her diary. - -[63] Fort Donelson stood on the Cumberland River about 60 miles northwest -of Nashville. The Confederate garrison numbered about 18,000 men. General -Grant invested the Fort on February 13, 1862, and General Buckner, who -commanded it, surrendered on February 16th. The Federal force at the time -of the surrender numbered 27,000 men; their loss in killed and wounded -being 2,660 men and the Confederate loss about 2,000. - -[64] General Burnside captured the Confederate garrison at Roanoke Island -on February 8, 1862. - -[65] Nashville was evacuated by the Confederates under Albert Sidney -Johnston, in February, 1862. - -[66] Richard, Lord Lyons, British minister to the United States from 1858 -to 1865. - -[67] Lord Russell was Foreign Secretary under the Palmerston -administration of 1859 to 1865. - -[68] Mary McDuffie was the second wife of Wade Hampton. - -[69] The Merrimac was formerly a 40-gun screw frigate of the United -States Navy. In April, 1861, when the Norfolk Navy-yard was abandoned -by the United States she was sunk. Her hull was afterward raised by the -Confederates and she was reconstructed on new plans, and renamed the -Virginia. On March 2, 1862, she destroyed the Congress, a sailing-ship of -50 guns, and the Cumberland, a sailing-ship of 30 guns, at Newport News. -On March 7th she attacked the Minnesota, but was met by the Monitor and -defeated in a memorable engagement. Many features of modern battle-ships -have been derived from the Merrimac and Monitor. - -[70] On March 7 and 8, 1862, occurred the battle of Pea Ridge in Western -Arkansas, where the Confederates were defeated, and on March 8th and 9th, -occurred the conflict in Hampton Roads between the warships Merrimac, -Cumberland, Congress, and Monitor. - -[71] Louisa Susanna McCord, whose husband was David J. McCord, a lawyer -of Columbia, who died in 1855. She was educated in Philadelphia, and -was the author of several books of verse, including Caius Gracchus, a -tragedy; she was also a brilliant pamphleteer. - -[72] John D. Floyd, who had been Governor of Virginia from 1850 to -1853, became Secretary of War in 1857. He was first in command at Fort -Donelson. Gideon J. Pillow had been a Major-General of volunteers in the -Mexican War and was second in command at Fort Donelson. He and Floyd -escaped from the Fort when it was invested by Grant, leaving General -Buckner to make the surrender. - -[73] Joseph Le Conte, who afterward arose to much distinction as a -geologist and writer of text-books on geology. He died in 1901, while he -was connected with the University of California. His work at Columbia was -to manufacture, on a large scale, medicines for the Confederate Army, -his laboratory being the main source of supply. In Professor Le Conte’s -autobiography published in 1903, are several chapters devoted to his life -in the South. - -[74] New Madrid, Missouri, had been under siege since March 3, 1862. - -[75] The Emancipation Proclamation was not actually issued until -September 22, 1862, when it was a notice to the Confederates to return -to the Union, emancipation being proclaimed as a result of their failure -to do so. The real proclamation, freeing the slaves, was delayed until -January 1, 1863, when it was put forth as a war measure. Mrs. Chesnut’s -reference is doubtless to President Lincoln’s Message to Congress, March -6, 1862, in which he made recommendations regarding the abolition of -slavery. - -[76] The battle of Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing, in Tennessee, -eighty-eight miles east of Memphis, had been fought on April 6 and 7, -1862. The Federals were commanded by General Grant who, on the second -day, was reenforced by General Buell. The Confederates were commanded by -Albert Sidney Johnston on the first day, when Johnston was killed, and on -the second day by General Beauregard. - -[77] New Orleans had been seized by the Confederates at the outbreak -of the war. Steps to capture it were soon taken by the Federals and on -April 18, 1862, the mortar flotilla, under Farragut, opened fire on -its protecting forts. Making little impression on them, Farragut ran -boldly past the forts and destroyed the Confederate fleet, comprising 13 -gunboats and two ironclads. On April 27th he took formal possession of -the city. - -[78] The Siege of Yorktown was begun on April 5, 1862, the place being -evacuated by the Confederates on May 4th. - -[79] The battle of Williamsburg was fought on May 5, 1862, by a part of -McClellan’s army, under General Hooker and others, the Confederates being -commanded by General Johnston. - -[80] General Benjamin F. Butler took command of New Orleans on May 2, -1862. The author’s reference is to his famous “Order No. 28,” which -reads: “As the officers and soldiers of the United States have been -subject to repeated insults from the women (calling themselves ladies) -of New Orleans, in return for the most scrupulous non-interference and -courtesy on our part, it is ordered that hereafter when any female shall -by word, gesture, or movement, insult or show contempt for any officer or -soldier of the United States she shall be regarded and held liable to be -treated as a woman of the town plying her vocation.” This and other acts -of Butler in New Orleans led Jefferson Davis to issue a proclamation, -declaring Butler to be a felon and an outlaw, and if captured that he -should be instantly hanged. In December Butler was superseded at New -Orleans by General Banks. - -[81] The Battle of Fair Oaks or Seven Pines, took place a few miles east -of Richmond, on May 31 and June 1, 1862, the Federals being commanded by -McClellan and the Confederates by General Joseph E. Johnston. - -[82] Fort Pillow was on the Mississippi above Memphis. It had been -erected by the Confederates, but was occupied by the Federals on June 5, -1862, the Confederates having evacuated and partially destroyed it the -day before. On June 6, 1862, the Federal fleet defeated the Confederates -near Memphis. The city soon afterward was occupied by the Federals. - -[83] Corinth was besieged by the Federals, under General Halleck, in May, -1862, and was evacuated by the Confederates under Beauregard on May 29th. - -[84] She lost her life in the Windsor Hotel fire in New York. - -[85] This must be a reference to the Battle of Seven Pines or to the -Campaign of the Chickahominy, up to and inclusive of that battle. - -[86] The battle of Secessionville occurred on James Island, in the harbor -of Charleston, June 16, 1862. - -[87] Malvern Hill, the last of the Seven Days’ Battles, was fought near -Richmond on the James River, July 1, 1862. The Federals were commanded by -McClellan and the Confederates by Lee. - -[88] The first battle of the Chickahominy, fought on June 27, 1862. It -is better known as the battle of Gaines’s Mill, or Cold Harbor. It was -participated in by a part of Lee’s army and a part of McClellan’s, and -its scene was about eight miles from Richmond. - -[89] Henry M. Rice, United States Senator from Minnesota, who had -emigrated to that State from Vermont in 1835. - -[90] Of ameliorations in modern warfare, Dr. John T. Darby said in -addressing the South Carolina Medical Association, Charleston, in 1873: -“On the route from the army to the general hospital, wounds are dressed -and soldiers refreshed at wayside homes; and here be it said with justice -and pride that the credit of originating this system is due to the women -of South Carolina. In a small room in the capital of this State, the -first Wayside Home was founded; and during the war, some seventy-five -thousand soldiers were relieved by having their wounds dressed, their -ailments attended, and very frequently by being clothed through the -patriotic services and good offices of a few untiring ladies in Columbia. -From this little nucleus, spread that grand system of wayside hospitals -which was established during our own and the late European wars.” - -[91] Flat Rock was the summer resort of many cultured families from the -low countries of the South before the war. Many attractive houses had -been built there. It lies in the region which has since become famous as -the Asheville region, and in which stands Biltmore. - -[92] The battle of Sharpsburg, or Antietam, one of the bloodiest of the -war, was fought in western Maryland, a few miles north of Harper’s Ferry, -on September 16 and 17, 1862, the Federals being under McClellan, and the -Confederates under Lee. - -[93] The battle of Chancellorsville, where the losses on each side were -more than ten thousand men, was fought about fifty miles northwest of -Richmond on May 2, 3, and 4, 1863. The Confederates were under Lee and -the Federals under Hooker. In this battle Stonewall Jackson was killed. - -[94] During the summer of 1862, after the battle of Malvern Hill and -before Sharpsburg, or Antietam, the following important battles had taken -place: Harrison’s Landing, July 3d and 4th; Harrison’s Landing again, -July 31st; Cedar Mountain, August 9th; Bull Run (second battle), August -29th and 30th, and South Mountain, September 14th. - -[95] Clement Baird Vallandigham was an Ohio Democrat who represented the -extreme wing of Northern sympathizers with the South. He was arrested by -United States troops in May, 1863, court-martialed and banished to the -Confederacy. Not being well received in the South, he went to Canada, but -after the war returned to Ohio. - -[96] Vicksburg surrendered on July 4, 1863. Since the close of 1862, it -had again and again been assaulted by Grant and Sherman. It was commanded -by Johnston and Pemberton, Pemberton being in command at the time of the -surrender. John C. Pemberton was a native of Philadelphia, a graduate of -West Point, and had served in the Mexican War. - -[97] Hood was a native of Kentucky and a graduate of West Point. - -[98] Drury’s Bluff lies eight miles south of Richmond on the James River. -Here, on May 16, 1864, the Confederates under Beauregard repulsed the -Federals under Butler. - -[99] The battle of Brandy Station, Va., occurred June 9, 1863. - -[100] George S. Stoneman, a graduate of West Point, was now a -Major-General, and Chief of Artillery in the Army of the Potomac. His -raid toward Richmond in 1863 was a memorable incident of the war. After -the war, he became Governor of California. - -[101] Miss Constance Cary afterward married Burton Harrison and settled -in New York where she became prominent socially and achieved reputation -as a novelist. - -[102] The battle of Chickamauga was fought on the river of the same -name, near Chattanooga, September 19 and 20, 1863. The Confederates were -commanded by Bragg and the Federals by Rosecrans. It was one of the -bloodiest battles of the war; the loss on each side, including killed, -wounded, and prisoners, was over 15,000. - -[103] John C. Breckinridge had been Vice-President of the United States -under Buchanan and was the candidate of the Southern Democrats for -President in 1860. He joined the Confederate Army in 1861. - -[104] Braxton Bragg was a native of North Carolina and had won -distinction in the war with Mexico. - -[105] John R. Thompson was a native of Richmond and in 1847 became editor -of the Southern Literary Messenger. Under his direction, that periodical -acquired commanding influence. Mr. Thompson’s health failed afterward. -During the war he spent a part of his time in Richmond and a part in -Europe. He afterward settled in New York and became literary editor of -the Evening Post. - -[106] The siege of Chattanooga, which had been begun on September -21st, closed late in November, 1863, the final engagements beginning -on November 23d, and ending on November 25th. Lookout Mountain and -Missionary Ridge were the closing incidents of the siege. Grant, Sherman, -and Hooker were conspicuous on the Federal side and Bragg and Longstreet -on the Confederate. - -[107] Following the battle of Gettysburg on July 1st, 2d, and 3d, of this -year, there had occurred in Virginia between Lee and Meade engagements -at Bristoe’s Station, Kelly’s Ford, and Rappahannock Station, the latter -engagement taking place on November 7th. The author doubtless refers here -to the positions of Lee and Meade at Mine Run, December 1st. December 2d -Meade abandoned his, because (as he is reported to have said) it would -have cost him 30,000 men to carry Lee’s breastworks, and he shrank from -ordering such slaughter. - -[108] Burton Harrison, then secretary to Jefferson Davis, who married -Miss Constance Cary and became well known as a New York lawyer. He died -in Washington in 1904. - -[109] Simon B. Buckner was a graduate of West Point and had served in -the Mexican War. In 1887 he was elected Governor of Kentucky and, at the -funeral of General Grant, acted as one of the pall-bearers. - -[110] John H. Morgan, a native of Alabama, entered the Confederate -army in 1861 as a Captain and in 1862 was made a Major-General. He was -captured by the Federals in 1863 and confined in an Ohio penitentiary, -but he escaped and once more joined the Confederate army. In September, -1864, he was killed in battle near Greenville, Tenn. - -[111] Judah P. Benjamin, was born, of Jewish parentage, at St. Croix -in the West Indies, and was elected in 1852 to represent Louisiana -in the United States Senate, where he served until 1861. In the -Confederate administration he served successively from 1861 to 1865 as -Attorney-General, Secretary of War, and Secretary of State. At the close -of the war he went to England where he achieved remarkable success at the -bar. - -[112] The New York Hotel, covering a block front on Broadway at Waverley -Place, was a favorite stopping place for Southerners for many years -before the war and after it. In comparatively recent times it was torn -down and supplanted by a business block. - -[113] General Polk, commanding about 24,000 men scattered throughout -Mississippi and Alabama, found it impossible to check the advance of -Sherman at the head of some 40,000, and moved from Meridian south to -protect Mobile. February 16, 1864, Sherman took possession of Meridian. - -[114] Colonel Ulric Dahlgren was a son of the noted Admiral, John -H. Dahlgren, who, in July, 1863, had been placed in command of the -South Atlantic Blockading Squadron and conducted the naval operations -against Charleston, between July 10 and September 7, 1863. Colonel -Dahlgren distinguished himself at Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and -Gettysburg. The raid in which he lost his life on March 4, 1864, was -planned by himself and General Kilpatrick. - -[115] During the month of May, 1864, important battles had been fought in -Virginia, including that of the Wilderness on May 6th-7th, and the series -later in that month around Spottsylvania Court House. - -[116] The battle of Stony Creek in Virginia was fought on June 28-29, -1864. - -[117] General Johnston in 1863 had been appointed to command the Army of -the Tennessee, with headquarters at Dalton, Georgia. He was to oppose -the advance of Sherman’s army toward Atlanta. In May, 1864, he fought -unsuccessful battles at Resaca and elsewhere, and in July was compelled -to retreat across the Chattahoochee River. Fault was found with him -because of his continual retreating. There were tremendous odds against -him. On July 17th he was superseded by Hood. - -[118] Raphael Semmes was a native of Maryland and had served in the -Mexican War. The Alabama was built for the Confederate States at -Birkenhead, England, and with an English crew and English equipment was -commanded by Semmes. In 1863 and 1864 the Alabama destroyed much Federal -shipping. On June 19, 1864, she was sunk by the Federal ship Kearsarge -in a battle off Cherbourg. Claims against England for damages were made -by the United States, and as a result the Geneva Arbitration Court was -created. Claims amounting to $15,500,000 were finally awarded. This case -has much importance in the history of international law. - -[119] The battle of Mobile Bay, won under Farragut, was fought on August -5, 1864. - -[120] On July 22d, Hood made a sortie from Atlanta, but after a battle -was obliged to return. - -[121] General Forrest made his raid on Memphis in August of this year. - -[122] General McPherson was killed before Atlanta during the sortie made -by Hood on July 22d. He was a native of Ohio, a graduate of West Point, -and under Sherman commanded the Army of the Tennessee. - -[123] After the battle, Atlanta was taken possession of and partly burned -by the Federals. - -[124] During the summer and autumn of 1864 several important battles -had occurred. In addition to the engagements by Sherman’s army farther -south, there had occurred in Virginia the battle of Cold Harbor in the -early part of June; those before Petersburg in the latter part of June -and during July and August; the battle of Winchester on September 19th, -during Sheridan’s Shenandoah campaign, and the battle of Cedar Creek on -October 19th. - -[125] After the war, Dr. Darby became professor of Surgery in the -University of the City of New York; he had served as Medical Director -in the Army of the Confederate States and as Professor of Anatomy and -Surgery in the University of South Carolina; had also served with -distinction in European wars. - -[126] General Sherman had started from Chattanooga for his march across -Georgia on May 6, 1864. He had won the battles of Dalton, Resaca, and New -Hope Church in May, the battle of Kennesaw Mountain in June, the battles -of Peach Tree Creek and Atlanta in July, and had formally occupied -Atlanta on September 2d. On November 16th, he started on his march from -Atlanta to the sea and entered Savannah on December 23d. Early in 1865 -he moved his army northward through the Carolinas, and on April 26th -received the surrender of General Joseph E. Johnston. - -[127] Reference is here made to the battle between Hood and Thomas at -Nashville, the result of which was the breaking up of Hood’s army as a -fighting force. - -[128] Under last date entry, January 17th, the author chronicles events -of later occurrence; it was her not infrequent custom to jot down -happenings in dateless lines or paragraphs. Mr. Blair visited President -Davis January 12th; Stephens, Hunter and Campbell were appointed Peace -Commissioners, January 28th. - -[129] Battles at Hatchen’s Run, in Virginia, had been fought on February -5, 6, and 7, 1865. - -[130] The reference appears to be to General Edward E. Potter, a native -of New York City, who died in 1889. General Potter entered the Federal -service early in the war. He recruited a regiment of North Carolina -troops and engaged in operations in North and South Carolina and Eastern -Tennessee. - -[131] John Taylor was graduated from Princeton in 1790 and became a -planter in South Carolina. He served in Congress from 1806 to 1810, and -in the latter year was chosen to fill a vacancy in the United States -Senate, caused by the resignation of Thomas Sumter. In 1826 he was chosen -Governor of South Carolina. He died in 1832. - -[132] Fort Duquesne stood at the junction of the Monongahela and -Alleghany Rivers. Captain Trent, acting for the Ohio Company, with -some Virginia militiamen, began to build this fort in February, 1754. -On April 17th of the same year, 700 Canadians and French forced him to -abandon the work. The French then completed the fortress and named it -Fort Duquesne. The unfortunate expedition of General Braddock, in the -summer of 1755, was an attempt to retake the fort, Braddock’s defeat -occurring eight miles east of it. In 1758 General Forbes marched westward -from Philadelphia and secured possession of the place, after the French, -alarmed at his approach, had burned it. Forbes gave it the name of -Pittsburg. - -[133] Elizabeth K. Adger, wife of the Rev. John B. Adger, D. D., of -Charleston, a distinguished Presbyterian divine, at one time a missionary -to Smyrna where he translated the Bible into the Armenian tongue. He was -afterward and before the war a professor in the Theological Seminary at -Columbia. His wife was a woman of unusual judgment and intelligence, -sharing her husband’s many hardships and notable experiences in the East. - -[134] Mr. Davis, while encamped near Irwinsville, Ga., had been captured -on May 10th by a body of Federal cavalry under Lieutenant-Colonel -Pritchard. He was taken to Fortress Monroe and confined there for two -years, his release being effected on May 13, 1867, when he was admitted -to bail in the sum of $100,000, the first name on his bail-bond being -that of Horace Greeley. - -[135] Simon Cameron became Secretary of War in Lincoln’s Administration, -on March 4, 1861. On January 11, 1862, he resigned and was made Minister -to Russia. - - - - -INDEX - - - Adams, James H., 26. - - Adger, Mrs. John B., 396. - - Aiken, Gov. William, his style of living, 253. - - Aiken, Miss, her wedding, 240-241. - - Alabama, the, surrender of, 314. - - Alabama Convention, the, 15. - - Alexandria, Va., Ellsworth killed at, 58. - - Allan, Mrs. Scotch, 258. - - Allston, Ben, his duel, 66; - a call from, 73. - - Allston, Col., 234. - - Allston, Washington, 46. - - Anderson, Gen. Richard, 49, 225. - - Anderson, Major Robert, 5; - his mistake, 34; - fired on, in Fort Sumter, 35; - when the fort surrendered, 39; - his flag-staff, 43; - his account of the fall of Fort Sumter, 48; - offered a regiment, 50, 119. - - Antietam, battle of, 213. - - Archer, Capt. Tom, a call from, 113; - his comments on Hood, 318; - his death, 343. - - Athens, Ga., the raid at, 322. - - Atlanta, battle of, 326. - - Auzé, Mrs. —, her troubled life, 179. - - - Bailey, Godard, 388, 389. - - Baldwin, Col. —, 84. - - Baltimore, Seventh Regiment in, 41; - in a blaze, 47. - - Barker, Theodore, 112. - - Barnwell, Edward, 316. - - Barnwell, Mrs. Edward, 208; - and her boy, 253-254. - - Barnwell, Mary, 194, 316. - - Barnwell, Rev. Robert, establishes a hospital, 83; - back in the hospital, 172; - sent for to officiate at a marriage, 185, 194; - his death, 238. - - Barnwell, Mrs. Robert, her death, 239. - - Barnwell, Hon. Robert W., sketch of, 10, 47; - on Fort Sumter, 50, 57, 77; - at dinner with, 98; - and the opposition to Mr. Davis, 104; - on fame, 106; - on democracies, 110, 160; - as to Gen. Chesnut, 163. - - Barron, Commodore Samuel, 101; - an anecdote of, when a middy, 120-122; - a prisoner, 124. - - Bartow, Col. —, 2; - and his wife, 71; - killed at Bull Run, 87; - eulogized in Congress, 90. - - Bartow, Mrs. —, hears of her husband’s death, 87-88; - her husband’s funeral, 88; - a call on, 146, 162; - in one of the departments, 166; - her story of Miss Toombs, 193, 199, 204; - goes to Mulberry, 386. - - Beauregard, Gen. P. G. T., 28; - a demigod, 31; - in council with the Governor, 33, 34; - leaves Montgomery, 50; - at Norfolk, 58; - his report of the capture of Fort Sumter, 62; - and the name Bull Run, 63; - faith in him, 77; - a horse for, 80; - in Richmond, 83-84; - his army in want of food, 97; - not properly supported, 99; - half Frenchman, 102; - letters from, 107, 131; - at Columbus, Miss., 139; - flanked at Nashville, 156; - and Shiloh, 163; - at Huntsville, 165; - fighting his way, 174; - retreating, 175; - evacuates Corinth, 178; - in disfavor, 183; - and Whiting, 307. - - Bedon, Josiah, 369. - - Bedon, Mrs. —, 369. - - Benjamin, Judah P., 278, 287. - - Berrien, Dr. —, 100, 193. - - Berrien, Judge, 166. - - Bibb, Judge, 9. - - Bierne, Bettie, her admirers, 232, 234; - her wedding, 235. - - Big Bethel, battle of, 81; - Magruder at, 196. - - Binney, Horace, his offer to Lincoln, 64; - quoted, 128, 311. - - Blair, Rochelle, 21. - - Blake, Daniel, 214. - - Blake, Frederick, 338. - - Blake, Walter, negroes leave him, 199. - - Bluffton, movement, the, 3. - - Bonaparte, Jerome Napoleon, goes to Washington, 98; - described, 102; - disappointed in Beauregard, 128. - - Boykin, A. H., 35. - - Boykin, Dr., 17, 18, 21, 135, 404. - - Boykin, E. M., 161, 389. - - Boykin, Hamilton, 171. - - Boykin, James, 220. - - Boykin, J. H., 387. - - Boykin, Col. John, 121; - his death in prison, 308. - - Boykin, Kitty, 22. - - Boykin, Mary, 312, 403. - - Boykin, Tom, his company, 58, 135. - - Bradley, Judy, 401. - - Bragg, Gen. Braxton, joins Beauregard, 139, 147; - a stern disciplinarian, 203; - at Chickamauga, 248, 252; - defeated at Chattanooga, 258; - asks to be relieved, 259; - one of his horses, 303. - - Brandy Station, battle of, 236. - - Breckinridge, Gen. John C., 249; - in Richmond, 275; - at the Ives theatricals, 285-286, 289. - - Brewster, Mr. —, 10; - at Fauquier White Sulphur Springs, 77; - remark by, 79; - a talk with, 82; - quoted, 108, 122; - criticism of, 124; - and Hood’s love-affair, 266-267; - on Joe Johnston’s removal, 320, 338. - - Bright, John, his speeches in behalf of the Union, 109. - - Brooks, Preston, 74. - - Brown, Gov., of Georgia, 315. - - Brown, John, of Harper’s Ferry, 1. - - Browne, “Constitution,” going to Washington, 9. - - Browne, Mrs. —, on spies, 206; - describes the Prince of Wales, 207. - - Brumby, Dr. —, 361. - - Buchanan, James, 16, 207. - - Buckner, Gen. Simon B., 131; - in Richmond, 267-268, 275. - - Bull Run, objection to the name, 63; - battle of, 85-90. - See _Manassas_. - - Burnside, Gen. Ambrose E., captures Roanoke Island, 132; - money due from, to Gen. Preston, 159. - - Burroughs, Mrs. —, 189. - - Butler, Gen. B. F., his Order No. 28, 164-165; - at New Orleans, 183, 202; - threatening Richmond, 294; - kind to Roony Lee, 300; - at New Orleans, 346. - - Byron, Lord, as a lover, 297; - quoted, 391. - - - Calhoun, John C., anecdote of, 17. - - Calhoun, Mrs. —, 323. - - Camden, S. C., excitement at, 3; - dwelling in, 21; - the author’s absence from, 22; - the author in, 42-46; - battle of, 75; - a romance in, 120-121; - return to, 127-130, 240-251; - Gen. Chesnut in, 250; - a picnic near, at Mulberry, 251; - return to, 304; - the author in, 384-404. - - Cameron, Simon, a proclamation by, 92, 400. - - Campbell, Judge John A., his resignation, 14; - his family, 77, 247. - - Cantey, Mary, 183. - - Cantey, Zack, 375. - - Capers, Mrs. —, 26. - - Carlyle, Thomas, and slavery in America, 136. - - Carroll, Chancellor, 27. - - Carroll, Judge, 204. - - Cary, Constance, 263; - a call on, 264; - a call from, 272; - a call for, 272; - as Lady Teazle, 276, 277; - as Lydia Languish, 285; - makes a bonnet, 293; - describes a wedding, 300; - and Preston Hampton, 301. - - Cary, Hetty, 244, 260, 272; - Gen. Chesnut with, 274. - - Chancellorsville, battle of, 213, 245. - - Charleston, the author in, 1-5; - Secession Convention adjourns to, 3; - Anderson in Fort Sumter, 5; - war steamer off, 9; - return to, 21-41; - Convention at, in a snarl, 26; - a ship fired into at, 31; - soldiers in streets of, 33; - Anderson refuses to capitulate at, 35; - the fort bombarded, 36; - Bull Run Russell in, 40; - return to, from Montgomery, 57-67; - thin-skinned people in, 60; - its condition good, 163; - bombardment of, 174; - under bombardment, 258; - surrender of, 350. - - Chase, Col. —, 6. - - Chattanooga, siege of, 258. - - Chesnut, Col. James, Sr., sketch of, XVII; - looking for fire, 66; - and Nellie Custis, 93, 122; - his family, 127; - anecdote of, 135; - his losses from the war, 158; - his old wines, 249; - a letter from, 296; - and his wife, 310; - refuses to say grace, 372; - sketch of, 390-392; - illness of, 403. - - Chesnut, Mrs. James, Sr., praises everybody, 59; - and Mt. Vernon, 63; - anecdote of, 66-67; - silver brought from Philadelphia by, 135; - sixty years in the South, 170, 236; - her death, 299; - and her husband, 310-311, 391. - - Chesnut, Gen. James, Jr., his death described, XVIII; - his resignation as U. S. Senator, 3, 4, 9; - with Mr. Davis, 14, 19; - averts a duel, 21, 26; - at target practice, 29; - made an aide to Beauregard, 34; - goes to demand surrender of Fort Sumter, 34; - his interview with Anderson, 35; - orders Fort Sumter fired on, 36; - asleep in Beauregard’s room, 37; - describes the surrender, 39; - with Wade Hampton, 47; - his interview with Anderson, 48; - goes to Alabama, 52; - opposed to leaving Montgomery, 55, 57; - and Davin the spy, 60; - letter from, 63; - and the first shot at Fort Sumter, 65; - letter from, at Manassas Junction, 65; - in Richmond, 69; - a letter from, 74-75; - orders to move on, received by, 80; - receiving spies from Washington, 82; - with Davis and Lee, 83; - his servant Lawrence, 84; - his account of the battle of Bull Run, 88; - speech by, 90; - carries orders at Bull Run, 106; - returns to Columbia, 126; - on slavery, 130; - news for, from Richmond, 132; - criticized, 134; - his address to South Carolinians, 140; - asked to excuse students from military service, 141; - his military affairs, 143, 144; - negroes offer to fight for, 147; - attacked, 148; - reasonable and considerate, 151; - his adventure with Gov. Gist, 153; - illness of, 155; - offered a place on staff of Mr. Davis, 157; - and the fall of New Orleans, 159; - finds a home for negroes, 160; - on a visit to his father, 161; - as to Charleston’s defenses, 163; - promotion for, 163; - at dinner, 166, 167; - called to Richmond, 171; - his self-control, 173; - and the negroes, 181; - returns to Columbia, 190; - off to Richmond, 191, 194; - letter from, on the Seven Days’ fighting, 197; - hears the Confederacy is to be recognized abroad, 201; - staying with President Davis, 202; - his character in Washington, 204; - with Gen. Preston, 207; - his busy life, 215; - in Wilmington, 216; - at Miss Bierne’s wedding, 235; - an anecdote of, 242; - when a raiding party was near Richmond, 245; - at the war office with, 247; - a tour of the West by, 248; - at home reading Thackeray’s novels, 250; - visits Bragg’s army again, 252; - contented, but opposed to more parties, 257; - receives a captured saddle from Gen. Wade Hampton, 258; - manages Judge Wigfall, 261; - his stoicism, 262; - opposed to feasting, 263; - in good humor, 268; - in a better mood, 271; - denounces extravagance, 272; - and Hetty Cary, 274; - popularity of, with the Carys, 277; - with Col. Lamar at dinner, 279; - promotion for, 280; - his pay, 284; - at church, 292; - going to see the President, 293; - made a brigadier-general, 302, 305; - his return to South Carolina, 307; - his work in saving Richmond, 309; - called to Charleston, 315; - his new home in Columbia, 316; - his friend Archer, 318-319; - returns to Columbia, 330; - in Charleston, 337; - says the end has come, 341; - urges his wife to go home, 344-345; - an anecdote of, 346; - escapes capture, 350; - a letter from, 355; - in Lincolnton, 359; - ordered to Chester, S. C., 364; - letter from, 366; - his cotton, 367; - and slavery, 374; - receives news of Lincoln’s assassination, 380; - fate of, 381. - - Chesnut, Mrs. James, Jr., the author, importance of her diary, XIII; - how she wrote it, XV; - her early life, XVI; - her home described, XX; - history of her diary, XXI; - in Charleston, 1-5; - on keeping a journal, 1; - visits Mulberry, 2; - her husband’s resignation as Senator, 3; - in Montgomery, 6-20; - on the political outlook, 7; - hears a story from Robert Toombs, 7; - at dinners, etc., 9-11; - calls on Mrs. Davis, 12; - sees a woman sold at auction, 13; - sees the Confederate flag go up, 14; - at the Confederate Congress, 18; - in Charleston, 21-41; - at Mulberry again, 21; - a petition to, from house-servants, 22; - her father-in-law, 22; - goes to the Charleston Convention, 23; - one of her pleasantest days, 26; - her thirty-eighth birthday, 27; - a trip by, to Morris Island, 31; - her husband goes to Anderson with an ultimatum, 35; - on a housetop when Sumter was bombarded, 35-36; - watching the negroes for a change, 38; - in Camden, 42-46; - the lawn at Mulberry, 43; - her photograph-book, 43; - a story of her maid Maria, 45; - at Montgomery, 47-56; - a cordial welcome to, 48; - a talk by, with A. H. Stephens and others, 49-54; - a visit to Alabama, 52; - at luncheon with Mrs. Davis, 55; - in Charleston, 57-67; - goes to Richmond, 62, 66; - letter to, from her husband, 65; - in Richmond, 68-76; - incidents in the journey, 68-69; - a talk by, with Mrs. Davis, 71; - at the Champ-de-Mars, 72; - at Mr. Davis’s table, 73; - letters to, from her husband, 74, 75; - at White Sulphur Springs, 77-81; - in Richmond, 82-126; - has a glimpse of war, 83; - weeps at her husband’s departure, 84; - the battle of Bull Run, 85-91; - Gen. Chesnut’s account of the battle, 88; - describes Robert E. Lee, 93-94; - at a flag presentation, 96; - her money-belt, 101; - goes to a hospital, 107, 108; - an unwelcome caller on, 111; - knitting socks, 113; - her fondness for city life, 124; - leaving Richmond, 125; - in Camden, 127-130; - her sister Kate, 127; - a letter to, from old Col. Chesnut, 127; - illness of, 128; - a hiatus in her diary, 130; - in Columbia, 131-209; - a visit to Mulberry, 134; - illness of, 135; - reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin, 142; - her influence with her husband in public matters, 145; - overhears her husband attacked, 148; - her husband and her callers, 151-153; - her husband’s secretary, 154; - depressed, 157; - anniversary of her wedding, 158; - at the Governor’s, 160; - as to love and hatred, 162; - her impression of hospitality in different cities, 166-167; - at Mulberry, 169; - a flood of tears, 173; - illness of, 180; - a call on, by Governor Pickens, 181; - knows how it feels to die, 182; - at Decca’s wedding, 184-185; - Gen. Chesnut in town, 190; - a letter to, from her husband, 197; - assisting the Wayside Hospital, 205-206; - goes to Flat Rock, 210; - illness of, 210; - in Alabama, 216-228; - meets her husband in Wilmington, 216; - a melancholy journey by, 220-221; - finds her mother ill, 221; - Dick, a negro whom she taught to read, 224; - her father’s body-servant Simon, 225; - in Montgomery, 226-227; - in Richmond, 229-239; - asked to a picnic by Gen. Hood, 230; - hears two love-tales, 232-233; - at Miss Bierne’s wedding, 235; - receives from Mrs. Lee a likeness of the General, 236; - burns some personal papers, 239; - in Camden, 240-251; - sees Longstreet’s corps going West, 241; - a story of her mother, 243; - at church during the battle of Chancellorsville, 244-245; - to the War Office with her husband, 247; - a tranquil time at home, 250; - a picnic at Mulberry, 251; - in Richmond, 252-303; - lives in apartments, 252; - an adventure in Kingsville, 255-257; - gives a party, 257; - criticized for excessive hospitality, 263; - with Mrs. Davis, 264; - drives with Gen. Hood, 265-267, 271; - three generals at dinner, 268; - at a charade party, 273-274; - an ill-timed call, 278; - Thackeray’s death, 282; - gives a luncheon-party, 282-283; - at private theatricals, 285; - gives a party for John Chesnut, 286; - goes to a ball, 287; - a walk with Mr. Davis, 291; - selling her old clothes, 300; - her husband made a brigadier-general, 302; - in Camden, 304; - leaving Richmond, 304; - Little Joe’s funeral, 306; - experiences in a journey, 307-308; - friends with her at Mulberry, 309; - writes of her mother-in-law, 310-311; - at Bloomsbury again, 311; - in Columbia, 313-343; - at home in a cottage, 314-316; - attendance of, at the Wayside Hospital, 321, 324, 325; - at Mary Preston’s wedding, 327; - entertains President Davis, 328-329; - a visit to, from her sister, 329; - letters to, from Mrs. Davis, 331, 332, 335; - her ponies, 336; - distress of, at Sherman’s advance, 341; - her husband at home, 341; - in Lincolnton, 344-366; - her flight from Columbia, 344-347; - her larder empty, 361; - refuses an offer of money, 363; - her husband ordered to Chester, 364; - losses at the Hermitage, 364; - illness of, 364; - in Chester, 367-383; - incidents in a journey by, 367-369; - a call on, from Gen. Hood, 376; - on Lincoln’s assassination, 380; - in Camden, 384-404; - goes to Mulberry, 386; - sketch by, of her father-in-law, 390-392; - goes to the Hermitage, 395; - illness of, 399; - no heart to write more, 403. - - Chesnut, Capt. John, a soft-hearted slave-owner, 21; - enlists as a private, 58; - his plantation, 64; - letter from, 132; - negroes to wait on, 163, 187; - and McClellan, 192; - in Stuart’s command, 198; - one of his pranks, 202; - goes to his plantation, 250; - joins his company, 252, 287; - a flirtation by, 328, 351, 381. - - Chesnut, John, Sr., 392. - - Chesnut, Miss, her presence of mind, 364; - bravery shown by, 375. - - Chesnut family, the, 22. - - Chester, S. C., the author in, 367-383; - the journey to, 367-369; - news of Lincoln’s assassination in, 380. - - Cheves, Edward, 199. - - Cheves, Dr. John, 172. - - Cheves, Langdon, 24; - a talk with, 26; - farewell to, 37. - - Chickahominy, battle on the, 177; - as a victory, 180; - another battle on the, 196. - - Chickamauga, battle of, 248. - - Childs, Col. —, 362, 363, 364; - his generosity, 367. - - Childs, Mrs. Mary Anderson, 16. - - Chisolm, Dr. —, 314. - - Choiseul, Count de, 322. - - Clay, C. C., a supper given by, 283, 302, 374. - - Clay, Mrs. C. C., as Mrs. Malaprop, 285. - - Clay, Mrs. Lawson, 273. - - Clayton, Mr. —, 2; - on the Government, 110. - - Clemens, Jere, 12. - - Cobb, Howell, desired for President of the Confederacy, 6, 18; - his common sense, 68; - arrest of, 398. - - Cochran, John, a prisoner in Columbia, 133. - - Coffey, Capt. —, 257. - - Cohen, Mrs. Miriam, her son in the war, 166; - a hospital anecdote by, 176; - a sad story told by, 178; - her story of Luryea, 183. - - Colcock, Col. —, 2. - - Cold Harbor, battle of, 196. - - Columbia, Secession Convention in, 2; - small-pox in, 3; - pleasant people in, 166; - dinner in, 167; - Wade Hampton in, 187; - the author in, 131-209; - Governor and council in, 132; - a trip from, to Mulberry, 135; - critics of Mr. Davis in, 140; - hospitality in, 166; - people coming to, from Richmond, 169; - Wade Hampton in, wounded, 187-193; - Prof. Le Conte’s powder-factory in, 187; - the Wayside Hospital in, 205; - called from, to Alabama, 218; - the author takes a cottage in, 314-316; - President Davis visits, 328-329; - burning of, 351, 358, 361, 362, 396. - - Confederate flag, hoisting of, at Montgomery, 14. - - Congress, the, burning of, 140. - - Cooper, Gen. —, 85, 103, 149. - - Corinth, evacuated, 178. - - Cowpens, the, battle of, 63. - - Coxe, Esther Maria, 257. - - Cumberland, the, sinking of, 139. - - Cummings, Gen., a returned prisoner, 200. - - Curtis, George William, 200. - - Custis, Nellie, 93, 236. - - Cuthbert, Capt. George, wounded, 211; - shot at Chancellorsville, 213. - - Cuthbert, Mrs. George, 337. - - - Dacre, May, 135. - - Dahlgren, Admiral John H., 294. - - Dahlgren, Col. U., his raid and death, 294. - - Daniel, Mr., of The Richmond Examiner, 109. - - Darby, Dr. John T., surgeon of the Hampton Legion, 57; - false report of his death, 88, 205; - with Gen. Hood, 230; - goes to Europe, 293, 296; - his marriage, 327. - - Da Vega, Mrs. —, 369. - - Davin, —, as a spy, 59. - - Davis, President Jefferson, 6, 8; - when Secretary of War, 11; - elected President, 12; - no seceder, 29; - and Hampton’s Legion, 147; - a dinner at his house, 49; - a long war predicted by, 53; - his want of faith in success, 71; - on his Arabian horse, 72; - at his table, 73; - the author met by, 82; - goes to Manassas, 86; - speech by, 90; - the author asked to breakfast with, 95; - presents flag to Texans, 96; - as a reconstructionist, 104; - ill, 124; - criticism of, 129; - his inauguration, 132; - his address criticized, 134; - a defense of, 140; - Gen. Gonzales complains to, 148; - abuse of, 150; - and Butler’s “Order No. 28,” 165; - on the battle-field, 202; - wants negroes in the army, 224; - a reception at his house, 246; - ill, 246; - in Charleston, 253; - riding alone, 263; - as a dictator, 265; - his Christmas dinner, 268; - a talk with, 274; - Congress asks for advice, 280; - a walk home with, 283; - attacked for nepotism, 290; - walks home from church with the author, 291; - speaks to returned prisoners, 301; - when Little Joe died, 305; - his Arabian horse, 309; - and Joe Johnston’s removal, 326; - in Columbia, 328-329; - on his visit to Columbia, 331; - praise of, 360; - when Lee surrendered, 381; - traveling leisurely, 394; - capture of, 395, 398. - - Davis, Jefferson, Jr., 306. - - Davis, Mrs. Jefferson, a call on, 12; - at one of her receptions, 49; - a talk with, 53; - at lunch with, 55; - adores Mrs. Emory, 61; - the author met by, 69; - her entourage, 76; - her ladies described, 79; - brings news of Bull Run, 86; - announces to Mrs. Bartow news of her husband’s death, 88; - in her drawing-room, 90; - “a Western woman,” 102; - a landlady’s airs to, 192; - says that the enemy are within three miles of Richmond, 246; - a call from, 263; - a drive with, 264; - at the Semmes’ charade, 273; - her servants, 275; - a reception by, 281; - a call on, 282; - gives a luncheon, 284; - her family unable to live on their income, 300; - depressed, 301; - a drive with, 302; - overlooked in her own drawing-room, 318; - letters from, 331, 332, 335; - in Chester, 377; - a letter from, 378. - - Davis, “Little Joe,” 264; - his tragic death, 305; - his funeral, 306, 309. - - Davis, Nathan, 148; - a call from, 152, 210. - - Davis, Nick, 12. - - Davis, Rev. Thomas, 252. - - Davis, Varina Anne (“Winnie, Daughter of the Confederacy”), 378. - - Deas, George, 12, 298. - - De Leon, Agnes, back from Egypt, 110. - - De Leon, Dr., 9. - - Derby, Lord, 136. - - Douglas, Stephen A., 12; - his death, 60. - - Drayton, Tom, 148. - - Drury’s Bluff, battle of, 230. - - Duncan, Blanton, anecdote of, 150, 208. - - - Eliot, George, 279. - - Elliott, Stephen, 318. - - Ellsworth, Col. E. E., his death at Alexandria, 58. - - Elmore, Grace, 155. - - Elzey, Gen. —, tells of the danger of Richmond, 246. - - Emancipation Proclamation, the, 153, 199. - - Emerson, R. W., the author reading, 64. - - Emory, Gen. William H., his resignation, 61. - - Emory, Mrs. William H., Franklin’s granddaughter, 61, 84; - a clever woman, 352. - - Eustis, Mrs. —, 124. - - - Fair Oaks or Seven Pines, battle of, 171. - - Farragut, Admiral D. G., captures New Orleans, 158, 319. - - Fauquier White Sulphur Springs, 77. - - Fernandina, Fla., 2. - - Fitzpatrick, Mrs. —, 8, 53. - - Floyd, John D., at Fort Donelson, 140. - - Ford, Mary, 312. - - Forrest, Gen. Nathan B., 323. - - Fort Donelson, surrender of, 131, 140. - - Fort Duquesne, 392. - - Fort McAlister, 339. - - Fort Moultrie, 42. - - Fort Pickens, 47. - - Fort Pillow, given up, 177. - - Fort Sumter, Anderson in, 5, 8; - if it should be attacked, 9; - folly of an attack on, 12; - and Anderson, 29; - surrender of, demanded, 34; - bombardment of, 35; - on fire, 38; - surrender of, 39; - those who captured it, 42; - who fired the first shot at, 65. - - Freeland, Maria, 257. - - Frost, Henry, 147. - - Frost, Judge —, 54. - - Frost, Tom, 26. - - - Gaillard, Mrs. —, 173. - - Garnett, Dr. —, his brother’s arrival from the North, 107, 260. - - Garnett, Mary, 9. - - Garnett, Muscoe Russell, 144. - - Garnett, Gen. R. S., killed at Rich Mountain, 119. - - Gay, Captain, 382. - - Georgetown, enemy landing in, 165. - - Gibbes, Dr. —, 26; - reports incidents of the war, 93; - bad news from, 100. - - Gibbes, Mrs. —, 32. - - Gibbes, Mrs. Hampton, 170. - - Gibson, Dr. —, 117. - - Gibson, Mrs., her prophecy, 169; - her despondency, 174. - - Gidiere, Mrs. —, 4. - - Gist, Gov., 152; - an anecdote of, 153. - - Gladden, Col. —, 156. - - Gonzales, Gen. —, his farewell to the author, 125; - complains of want of promotion, 148. - - Goodwyn, Artemus, 21. - - Goodwyn, Col. —, 218, 350. - - Gourdin, Robert, 25, 32. - - Grahamville, to be burned, 336. - - Grant, Gen. U. S., and the surrender of Fort Donelson, 131; - at Vicksburg, 219; - a place for, 269; - his success, 270; - pleased with Sherman’s work, 299; - reenforcements for, 310; - before Richmond, 322, 333; - closing in on Lee, 346; - Richmond falls before, 377. - - Greeley, Horace, quoted, 116. - - Green, Allen, 32, 95, 360. - - Green, Mrs. Allen, 33. - - Green, Halcott, 171, 203. - - Greenhow, Mrs. Rose, warned the Confederates at Manassas, 176; - in Richmond, 201, 204. - - Gregg, Maxcy, 31. - - Grundy, Mrs., 257. - - - Halleck, Gen., being reenforced, 165; - takes Corinth, 178. - - Hamilton, Jack, 36. - - Hamilton, Louisa, her baby, 36, 211. - - Hamilton, Prioleau, 374. - - Hamilton, Mrs. Prioleau, 370. - - Hammy, Mary, 66, 76; - her _fiancé_, 79; - many strings to her bow, 100; - her disappointment, 118; - in tears, 124. - - Hampton, Christopher, 161, 264; - leaving Columbia, 344, 399. - - Hampton, Frank, his death and funeral, 237; - a memory of, 238. - - Hampton, Mrs. Frank, 40, 42; - on flirting with South Carolinians, 118, 173. - - Hampton, Miss Kate, 218; - anecdote of, 381. - - Hampton Legion, the, Dr. Darby its surgeon, 57; - in a snarl, 85; - at Bull Run, 105. - - Hampton, Preston, 40, 237, 260, 264, 272; - his death in battle, 332. - - Hampton Roads, the Merrimac in, 164. - - Hampton, Sally, 293, 332; - marriage of, 399. - - Hampton, Gen. Wade, of the Revolution, 39, 43, 47. - - Hampton, Mrs. Wade, the elder, 43. - - Hampton, Gen. Wade, his Legion, 47; - in Richmond, 82; - wounded, 87; - the hero of the hour, 135, 150; - shot in the foot, 171; - his wound, 180; - his heroism when wounded, 181; - in Columbia, 187; - at dinner, 189-190; - and his Legion, 191; - a reception to, 192; - sends a captured saddle to Gen. Chesnut, 258; - a basket of partridges from, 271, 313; - fights a battle, in which his two sons fall, 332; - tribute of, to Joe Johnston, 343; - made a lieutenant-general, 350; - correspondence of, with Gen. Sherman, 359; - home again, 404. - - Hampton, Mrs. Wade, 136. - - Hampton, Wade, Jr., 249; - wounded in battle, 332. - - Hardee, Gen. William J., 371. - - Harlan, James, 90. - - Harper’s Ferry, to be attacked, 58; - evacuated, 65. - - Harris, Arnold, brings news from Washington, 91. - - Harrison, Burton, 246, 263, 264; - at a charade, 274; - defends Mr. Davis, 290, 305, 330. - - Hartstein, Capt., 25. - - Haskell, Alexander, 198, 268. - - Haskell, John C., 293, 399. - - Haskell, Mrs. —, 196. - - Haskell, William, 27. - - Haxall, Lucy, 257. - - Haxall, Mrs., 278. - - Hayne, Mrs. Arthur, 146. - - Hayne, Isaac, 26, 66, 316, 346, 369. - - Hayne, Mrs. Isaac, 27; - when her son died, 202. - - Hayne, Paul, 176; - his son and Lincoln, 202, 208. - - Hemphill, John, 48. - - Hermitage, the, 365. - - Heyward, Barnwell, as an escort, 64, 212, 278, 283. - - Heyward, Henrietta Magruder, 212. - - Heyward, Joseph, 212. - - Heyward, Mrs. Joseph, 28, 39. - - Heyward, Savage, 22. - - Hill, Benjamin H., refusal of, to fight a duel, 11, 13; - in Richmond, 274. - - Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 144. - - Hood, Gen. John B., 100; - described, 230; - with his staff, 231; - at Chickamauga, 248; - calls on the author, 263; - a drive with, 265; - his love-affairs, 266-269; - a drive with, 271; - fitted for gallantry, 277; - on horseback, 282; - drives with Mr. Davis, 283; - has an ovation, 284; - at a ball, 287; - his military glory, 290; - anecdote of, 298; - a full general, 314; - his address to the army, 316; - losses of, before Atlanta, 320; - his force, 333; - off to Tennessee, 337; - losses of, at the battle of Nashville, 337, 340; - in Columbia, 342; - his glory on the wane, 372; - a call from, 376; - his silver cup, 380; - abuse of, 383. - - Hooker, Gen. Joseph B., 162, 213. - - Howell, Maggie, 76, 304, 327. - - Howell, Mrs., 265. - - Huger, Alfred, 2. - - Huger, Gen. Benjamin, 383. - - Huger, Mrs., 381, 394. - - Huger, Thomas, 31; - his death, 186. - - Humphrey, Capt., 5. - - Hunter, R. M. T., at dinner with, 53, 57, 144; - a walk home with, 283, 398. - - - Ingraham, Capt. —, 8, 10, 14, 42, 54; - says the war has hardly begun, 99, 147. - - Ives, Col. J. C., 284. - - Ives, Mrs. J. C., 273; - her theatricals, 285. - - Izard, Mrs. —, 26; - quoted, 93, 146; - tells of Sand Hill patriots, 209, 351. - - Izard, Lucy, 212. - - - Jackson, Gen. “Stonewall,” at Bull Run, 89, 170; - his movements, 172; - his influence, 175; - his triumphs, 179; - following up McClellan, 193; - faith in, 196; - killed, 213; - promoted Hood, 230; - described by Gen. Lawton, 261-262; - laments for, 269. - - Jameson, Mr. —, 54. - - James Island, Federals land on, 181; - abandoned, 195. - - Johnson, President Andrew, 394, 398. - - Johnson, Mrs. Bradley T., as a heroine, 71. - - Johnson, Herschel V., 11. - - Johnson, Dr. Robert, 220. - - Johnston, Gen. Albert Sidney, 131, 140; - killed at Shiloh, 156, 182. - - Johnston, General Edward, a prisoner in the North, 232; - help he once gave Grant, 269. - - Johnston, Gen. Joseph E., his command, 75; - evacuates Harper’s Ferry, 65; - retreating, 78; - to join Beauregard, 84, 85; - at Bull Run, 91; - at Seven Pines, 171; - wounded, 180; - his heroism as a boy, 184; - sulking, 228; - as a great god of war, 240; - thought well of, 248; - his care for his men, 249; - made commander-in-chief of the West, 265; - orders to, 290; - suspended, 314; - cause of his removal, 315, 317, 320; - a talk with, 350; - in Lincolnton, 352; - a drawn battle by, 372; - not to be caught, 379; - anecdote of, 383. - - Johnston, Mrs. Joseph E., 53, 86; - and Mrs. Davis, 102, 350; - her cleverness, 352. - - Johnston, Robert, 375. - - Jones, Col. Cadwallader, 380. - - Jones, Gen. —, 315. - - Jordan, Gen., an outburst from, 99. - - - Kearsarge, the, 314. - - Keitt, Col. Lawrence, opposed to Mr. Davis, 68; - seeking promotion, 258. - - Kershaw’s brigade in Columbia, 341. - - Kershaw, Joseph, and the Chesnuts, 393. - - Kershaw, Gen. Joseph B., and his brigade, 21; - anecdote of, 63; - his regiment praised, 95; - his piety, 101; - his independent report on Bull Run, 107. - - Kershaw, Mrs. Joseph B., 390. - - Kilpatrick, Gen. Judson, 294; - threatening Richmond, 296; - his failure before Richmond, 298. - - King, Judge, 211. - - Kingsville, 3; - an adventure in, 253. - - Kirkland, Mary, 385. - - Kirkland, Mrs. —, 4. - - Kirkland, William, 311. - - Kirkwood Rangers, the, 106. - - - La Borde, Dr. —, 210. - - Lamar, Col. L. Q. C., in Richmond, 70; - a talk with, 72; - on the war, 73; - on crutches, 82, 144; - asked to dinner, 278; - his talk of George Eliot, 279-280; - and Constance Cary, 286; - spoken of, for an aideship, 302. - - Lancaster, 356. - - Lane, Harriet, 18. - - Laurens, Henry, his grandchildren, 330. - - Lawrence, a negro, unchanged, 38; - fidelity of, 101, 112; - quarrels of, with his wife, 217, 237; - sent home, 288. - - Lawton, Gen. Alexander R., talks of “Stonewall Jackson,” 261; - a talk with, 276. - - Le Conte, Prof. Joseph, 141; - his powder manufactory, 187. - - Ledyard, Mr. —, 18. - - Lee, Custis, 100, 246, 328. - - Lee, Fitzhugh, 294. - - Lee, Light Horse Harry, 94. - - Lee, Gen. Robert E., made General-in-chief of Virginia, 47, 63; - with Davis and Chesnut, 83; - seen by the author for the first time, 93; - warns planters, 136; - criticism of, 188; - faith in, 197; - warns Mr. Davis on the battle-field, 202; - and Antietam, 213; - wants negroes in the army, 224; - a likeness of, 236; - faith in him justified, 240; - at Mr. Davis’s house, 244; - fighting Meade, 258; - at church, 264; - in Richmond, 265; - if he had Grant’s resources, 270; - a sword for, 292; - instructed in the art of war, 292; - his daughter-in-law’s death, 300; - a postponed review by, 306; - without backing, 331; - a drawn battle by, 372; - despondent, 377; - capitulation of, 378; - part of his army in Chester, 379. - - Lee, Mrs. Robert E., 93, 124, 236; - a call on, 292. - - Lee, Roony, 93; - wounded, 236; - Butler kind to, 300. - - Lee, Capt. Smith, a walk with, 294, 302, 303. - - Lee, Stephen D., 371. - - Legree, of Uncle Tom’s Cabin, discussed, 114-116. - - Leland, Capt., 337. - - Leon, Edwin de, sent to England, 172. - - Levy, Martha, 211. - - Lewes, George Henry, 280. - - Lewis, John, 257. - - Lewis, Major John Coxe, 265. - - Lewis, Maria, her wedding, 264, 303. - - Lincoln, Abraham, his election, 1; - at his inauguration, 9; - in Baltimore, 12, 13; - his inaugural address, 14; - his Scotch cap, 18; - described, 19, 33; - as a humorist, 71; - his army, 76; - anecdote of, 78; - his emancipation proclamation, 153, 199; - his portrait attacked by Paul Hayne’s son, 202; - his regrets for the war, 203, 270; - assassination of, 380, 396. - - Lincoln, Mrs. Abraham, vulgarity of, 12; - her economy, 16, 18, 270; - her sister in Richmond, 381. - - Lincolnton, the author in, 344-366; - an exile in, 347; - taken for a millionaire in, 349; - Gen. Chesnut in, 358-359. - - Lomax, Col., 6. - - Longstreet, A. B., author of Georgia Scenes, 82. - - Longstreet, Gen. James, his army going West, 241; - separated from Bragg, 258; - failure of, 265. - - Lowe, Sir Hudson, 399. - - Lowndes, Charles, 211. - - Lowndes, Mrs. Charles, 4. - - Lowndes, James, a call from, 112, 370. - - Lowndes, Rawlins, 211. - - Lowndes, Mrs. —, 59. - - Lubbock, Gov. —, 328. - - Luryea, Albert, his death, 175. - - Lyons, Lord, 136. - - Lyons, Mrs., 239, 281, 313. - - Lyons, Rachel, 208. - - - Magrath, Judge, 2, 394. - - Magruder, Gen. John B., wins battle of Big Bethel, 62, 196; - public opinion against, 201; - in Columbia, 204. - - Mallory, Stephen R., 13; - meets the author in Richmond, 69, 147. - - Mallory, Mrs. S. R., 27. - - Malvern Hill, battle of, 194, 214. - - Manassas, a sword captured at, 101. - See _Bull Run_. - - Manassas Junction, letter from Gen. Chesnut at, 65. - - Manassas Station, 63; - looking for a battle at, 64. - - Manning, Gov. John, sketch of, 23; - at breakfast, 25, 27; - news from, 32, 34; - an aide to Beauregard, 36; - under fire, 38; - his anecdote of Mrs. Preston, 168. - - Marshall, Henry, 161. - - Martin, Isabella D., 155, 268; - quoted, 275; - to appear in a play, 276; - on war and love-making, 288; - when Willie Preston died, 315; - takes the author to a chapel, 322; - a walk with, 336, 343, 350, 363; - letter from, 404. - - Martin, Rev. William, and the Wayside Hospital, 206; - at Lincolnton, 351. - - Martin, Mrs. William, 315. - - Mason, George, 103. - - Mason, James M., at dinner with, 98; - as an envoy to England, 116-117, 125; - on false news, 104. - - McCaa, Col. Burwell Boykin, his death in battle, 229, 373. - - McClellan, Gen. George B., advancing for a battle, 65; - supersedes Scott, 98; - as a coming king, 119; - said to have been removed, 153; - his force of men on the Peninsula, 158; - his army, 164; - at Fair Oaks, 171; - his lines broken, 187; - followed by “Stonewall” Jackson, 193; - prisoners taken from, 196; - belief in his defeat, 198; - destruction of his army expected, 200; - his escape, 201; - and Antietam, 213. - - McCord, Cheves, 177. - - McCord, Mrs. Louisa S., and her brother, 139; - her faith in Southern soldiers, 175; - of patients in the hospital, 182; - a talk with, 199; - on nurses, 203, 239; - at her hospital, 317; - sends a bouquet to President Davis, 328; - a dinner with, 335; - her horses, 336; - her troublesome country cousin, 337. - - McCulloch, Ben, 50. - - McDowell, Gen. Irvin, defeated at Bull Run, 91. - - McDuffie, Mary, 136. - - McFarland, Mrs., 236. - - McLane, Col., 329. - - McLane, Mrs., 85-86. - - McLane, —, 92. - - McMahan, Mrs., 210. - - Meade, Gen. George G., fighting Lee, 258-259; - his armies, 269. - - Means, Gov. John H., 26, 33; - a good-by to, 207, 214. - - Means, Mrs. —, 37. - - Means, Stark, 37. - - Memminger, Hon. Mr., letter from, 164. - - Memphis given up, 177; - retaken, 323. - - Merrimac, the, 136, 139, 140; - called the Virginia, 148; - sunk, 164. - - Meynardie, Rev. Mr., 66; - as a traveling companion, 68, 101. - - Middleton, Miss, 348, 349; - described, 353, 359; - a letter from, 376. - - Middleton, Mrs. —, 136, 154. - - Middleton, Mrs. Tom, 26. - - Middleton, Olivia, 338. - - Miles, Col. —, an aide to Beauregard, 36; - an anecdote by, 43, 54, 125. - - Miles, Dr. Frank, 361. - - Miles, William A., his love-affairs, 232-234. - - Miller, John L., 309. - - Miller, Stephen, 6. - - Miller, Stephen Decatur, sketch of, 16; - his body-servant, Simon, 225. - - Miller, Mrs. Stephen Decatur, 216; - ill in Alabama, 221; - her return with the author, 226; - an anecdote of her bravery, 243. - - Milton, John, as a husband, 298. - - Minnegerode, Rev. Mr., his church during Stoneman’s raid, 245; - his prayers, 277. - - Mobile Bay, battle of, 319. - - Moise, Mr. —, 178. - - Monitor, the, 137, 139, 140. - - Montagu, Lady Mary, 142. - - Montgomery, Ala., the author in, 6-20; - Confederacy being organized at, 6; - speeches in Congress at, 12; - Confederate flag raised at, 15; - the author in, 47-56; - a trip from Portland, Ala., to, 52; - removal of Congress from, 55; - society in, 166; - hospitality in, 166; - the author in, 220, 226-228. - - Montgomery Blues, the, 6. - - Montgomery Hall, 21. - - Moore, Gen. A. B., 6; - brings news, 8, 10, 15. - - Morgan, Gen. John H., an anecdote of, 208; - his romantic marriage, 242; - in Richmond, 275; - a dinner by, 276; - his death reported, 326. - - Morgan, Mrs. John H., her romantic marriage, 242. - - Mormonism, 143. - - Morris Island, 31; - being fortified, 195. - - Moses, Little, 134. - - Mt. Vernon, 63. - - Mulberry, a visit to, 2, 21; - portrait of C. C. Pinckney at, 32; - the author at, 42; - a stop at, 57; - the author ill at, 127, 135; - hospitality at, 169; - a picnic at, 251; - in spring, 308; - Madeira from, 329; - a farewell to, 340; - fears for, 354; - reported destruction of, 381; - results of attack on, 386; - a dinner at, 403. - - - Napier, Lord, 176. - - Napoleon III, 136. - - Nashville, evacuation of, 134. - - Nelson, Warren, 143. - - Newbern, lost, 144. - - New Madrid, to be given up, 146. - - New Orleans, taken by Farragut, 158-159; - a story from, 178; - men enlisting in, 188; - women at, 188. - - New York Herald, the, quoted, 9, 13, 18, 34, 43, 100; - criticism by, 281, 298. - - New York Tribune, the, quoted, 89, 96, 107. - - Nickleby, Mrs., 131. - - Norfolk, burned, 164. - - Northrop, Mr. —, abused as commissary-general, 97. - - Nott, Henry Deas, on the war, 103. - - - Ogden, Capt. —, 327, 333, 367. - - Orange Court House, 74. - - Ordinance of Secession, passage of, 4. - - Ossoli, Margaret Fuller, 32. - - Ould, Judge, 247. - - Ould, Mrs., a party of hers, 259, 274, 280; - gives a luncheon, 302. - - Owens, Gen. —, 48. - - - Palmer, Dr. —, 326. - - Palmetto Flag, raising the, 2. - - Parker, Frank, 303. - - Parkman, Mrs., 235. - - Patterson, Miss —, 345. - - Pea Ridge, battle of, 139. - - Pemberton, Gen. John C., 219, 247. - - Penn, Mrs. —, 281. - - Petersburg, an incident at, 255; - prisoners taken at, 323. - - Petigru, James L., his opposition to secession, 24, 36; - refuses to pray for Mr. Davis, 63, 284. - - Pettigrew, Johnston, offered a brigadier-generalship, 145, 171, 173. - - Phillips, Mrs., 201. - - Pickens, Gov. Francis W., “insensible to fear,” 3; - and Fort Sumter, 5; - a telegram from, 9; - a fire-eater, 29; - orders a signal fired, 33; - a call from, 151, 181; - has telegram from Mr. Davis, 190; - serenaded, 204. - - Pickens, Mrs. Francis W., 29, 134, 149; - her reception to Gen. Wade Hampton, 192-193. - - Pillow, Gideon J., at Fort Donelson, 140. - - Pinckney, Charles C., 32. - - Pinckney, Miss —, 32. - - Pizzini’s, 111. - - Poe, Edgar Allan, 258. - - Polk, Gen. Leonidas, and Sherman, 291, 298. - - Pollard, Mr. —, dinner at home of, 9. - - Porcher, Mr. —, drowned, 107. - - Portland, Ala., a visit to, 52. - - Portman, Mr. —, 373. - - Port Royal, 137. - - Potter, Gen. Edward E., 387. - - Preston, Jack, 343. - - Preston, Gen. John S., at Warrenton, 82; - as to prisoners in Columbia, 133; - ruined by the fall of New Orleans, 159; - on gossiping, 162; - his entertainments, 168, 207; - with Hood at a reception, 284, 323; - return of his party from Richmond, 373; - on horseback, 374; - a good-by from, 375; - going abroad, 382. - - Preston, Mrs. John S., 39; - goes to Manassas, 69, 94; - quoted, 130, 143; - a dinner with, 157; - a ball given by, 167; - her fearlessness, 168; - a call with, 180; - at a concert, 193; - an anecdote by, 295-296. - - Preston, Mary C., goes to Mulberry, 134, 136, 143; - a drive by, with Mr. Venable, 150; - with Gen. Chesnut, 159; - a talk with, 162; - gives Hood a bouquet, 231; - made love to, 233, 256; - greets Gen. Hood, 263, 283, 296; - her marriage, 327; - a dinner to, 330. - - Preston, Sally Buchanan Campbell, called “Buck,” 150, 167; - made love to, 233, 266; - why she dislikes Gen. Hood, 286; - men who worship, 288; - and Gen. Hood, 289, 291; - on horseback, 303. - - Preston, Miss Susan, 36. - - Preston, Willie, 43; - his death, 315. - - Preston, William C., 105, 362. - - Pride, Mrs. —, 370, 372, 373. - - Prince of Wales, the, his visit to Washington, 207. - - Pringle, Edward J., letter from, 4, 27. - - Pringle, Mrs. John J., 186. - - Pryor, Gen. Roger A., 37. - - - Rachel, Madam, in Charleston, 238. - - Randolph, Gen. —, 147. - - Randolph, Mrs. —, described, 105; - and Yankee prisoners, 107; - her theatricals, 275. - - Ravenel, St. Julien, 365. - - Reed, Wm. B., arrested, 113. - - Reynolds, Mrs. —, 22. - - Rhett, Albert, 165. - - Rhett, Mrs. Albert, 147. - - Rhett, Barnwell, desired for President of the Confederacy, 6; - as a man for president, 104. - - Rhett, Barnwell, Jr., 148. - - Rhett, Burnet, to marry Miss Aiken, 21. - - Rhett, Edmund, 150, 313-314. - - Rhett, Grimké, 200. - - Rice, Henry M., 205. - - Rich Mountain, battle of, 119. - - Richmond, going to, 66; - the author in, 68-76; - return to, from White Sulphur Springs, 82-126; - a council of war in, 83; - when Bull Run was fought, 85-89; - Robert E. Lee seen in, 93-94; - at the hospitals in, 108-111; - women knitting socks in, 113; - agreeable people in, 120; - Gen. Chesnut called to, 157; - hospitality in, 167; - a battle near, 171, 174; - the Seven Days’ fighting near, 197-198; - return to, 229-239; - Gen. Hood in, 229-231; - a march past in, 231; - a funeral in, 237; - during Stoneman’s raid, 239, 247; - at Mr. Davis’s in, 244; - the enemy within three miles of, 246; - at the War-Office in, 247-248; - return to, 252-303; - the journey to, 252-256; - to see a French frigate near, 259; - Gen. Hood in, 265-269, 271; - merriment in, 272-277, 282-287; - a huge barrack, 278; - almost taken, 293-294; - Dahlgren’s raid, 294; - Kilpatrick threatens, 296, 298; - fourteen generals at church in, 299; - returned prisoners in, 301; - a farewell to, 302-304; - Little Joe Davis’s death in, 305-306; - anxiety in, 330; - fall of, 377. - - Roanoke Island, surrender of, 132. - - Robertson, Mr. —, 385. - - Rosecrans, Gen. William S., 248; - at Chattanooga, 258. - - Russell, Lord, 136. - - Russell, William H., of the London Times, 40, 50; - criticisms by, 52; - his criticisms mild, 60; - rubbish in his letters, 64; - attacked, 66; - abuses the South, 74; - his account of Bull Run, 96, 113; - his criticisms of plantation morals, 114; - on Bull Run, 117; - his “India,” 208. - - Rutledge, Mrs. Ben., 348. - - Rutledge, John, 31. - - Rutledge, Julia, 240. - - Rutledge, Robert, 14. - - Rutledge, Sally, 212. - - Rutledge, Susan, 5. - - - Sanders, George, 12. - - Saussure, Mrs. John de, 15; - a good-by from, 67. - - Saussure, Wilmot de, 89, 107, 109. - - Scipio Africanus, a negro, 391, 397. - - Scott, Gen. Winfield, anecdote of, 7; - and officers wishing to resign, 10; - on Southern soldiers, 182. - - Scott, Mrs. Winfield, 19. - - Secession in South Carolina, 2; - the Convention of, 3; - support for, 5. - - Secessionville, battle of, 191. - - Seddon, Mr. J. A., 247. - - Semmes, Admiral R., 236; - a charade-party at his house, 272-273; - and the surrender of the Alabama, 314. - - Semmes, Mrs., her calmness, 294. - - Seven Days’ Battle, last of the, 194; - Gen. Chesnut’s account of, 197. - - Seven Pines, battle of, 171. - - Seventh Regiment, of New York, the, in Baltimore, 41. - - Seward, William H., 17, 33, 104; - quoted, 146; - reported to have gone to England, 203; - attempted assassination of, 380. - - Shakespeare, William, as a lover, 296-297. - - Shand, Nanna, 158. - - Shand, Rev. Mr., 194, 195. - - Shannon, William M., 21. - - Shannon, Capt. —, a call from, 106. - - Sharpsburg. See _Antietam_. - - Sherman, Gen. William T., at Vicksburg, 219; - marching to Mobile, 291; - his work in Mississippi, 299; - between Lee and Hood, 327; - to catch Lee in the rear, 331; - his march to the sea, 333; - at Augusta, 334; - going to Savannah, 336; - desolation in his path, 340-341; - marching constantly, 342; - no living thing in his path, 354-355, 356, 357; - burning of Columbia, 358, 362; - correspondence with Gen. Hampton, 359; - promise of protection by, to Columbia, 372; - at the fall of Richmond, 377; - ruin in his track, 384; - remark of, to Joe Johnston, 390; - accuses Wade Hampton of burning Columbia, 396. - - Shiloh, battle of, 156. - - Simms, William Gilmore, 43, 145. - - Singleton, Mrs., 184, 194, 237; - her orphan grandchildren, 238. - - Slidell, Mrs. —, 149. - - Smith, Gen. Kirby, wounded, 87, 90; - as a Blücher, 94, 317, 323. - - Somerset, Duke of, his son in Richmond, 203. - - Soulouque, F. E., his career in Hayti, 74. - - South Carolina, the secession of, 2, 4; - attack on, 10; - a small State, 70. - - Spotswood Hotel, the, 59; - the author at, 69; - a miniature world, 70; - the drawing-room of, 79. - - Spottsylvania Court House, battles around, 310. - - Stanard, Mr. —, 94. - - Stanton, Edwin M., 310. - - Stark, Mary, 95, 146. - - St. Cecilia Society, the, balls of, 30. - - St. Michael’s Church, and the firing on Fort Sumter, 35. - - Stephens, Alexander H., 10; - elected Vice-President, 12; - his fears for the future, 49. - - Stockton, Philip A., his clandestine marriage, 120-122. - - Stockton, Mrs. Edward, 251. - - Stockton, Emma, 272. - - Stoneman, Gen. G. S., his raid, 239, 244, 245; - before Atlanta, 317, 377. - - Stony Creek, battle of, 313. - - Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 143, 189. - - Stuart, Gen. Jeb, his cavalry, 187, 277. - - Sue, Eugene, 46. - - Sumner, Charles, 74. - - Sumter, S. C., an awful story from, 401, 402. - - - Taber, William, 26. - - Taliaferro, Gen. —, 317. - - Taylor, John, 392. - - Taylor, Gen. Richard, 227. - - Taylor, Willie, 165. - - Team, Adam, 252, 254, 256. - - Thackeray, W. M., quoted, 110; - on American hostesses, 168; - his death, 281. - - Thomas, Gen. George H., his forces, 333; - and Gen. Hood, 338; - wins the battle of Nashville, 339, 340. - - Thompson, John R., 258, 260, 298. - - Thompson, Mrs. John R., 204. - - Togno, Madame —, 151. - - Tompkins, Miss Sally, her hospital, 111. - - Toombs, Robert, an anecdote told by, 7, 20; - thrown from his horse and remounts, 97, 101; - as a brigadier, 108; - in a rage, 132; - his criticisms, 171; - denounced, 179. - - Toombs, Mrs. Robert, a reception given by, 48, 53; - a call on, 112. - - Toombs, Miss —, anecdote of, 193. - - Trapier, Gen. —, 148. - - Trapier, Rev. Mr., 394, 397. - - Trenholm, Capt. —, 133. - - Trescott, William H., 24, 29, 70; - says Bull Run is a victory leading to ruin, 92; - his dinners, 153. - - Trezevant, Dr. —, 198, 339. - - Trimlin, Milly, 400-401. - - Tucker, Capt., 273. - - Tyler, Miss, 14. - - - Uncle Tom’s Cabin, 142, 184. - - Urquhart, Col. —, 313. - - - Vallandigham, Clement B., 216. - - Velipigue, Jim, 63. - - Venable, Col., 36, 40; - reports a brave thing at Bull Run, 92; - on the Confederate losses at Nashville, 134; - his comment on an anecdote, 138; - on toleration of sexual immorality, 143, 144; - an aide to Gen. Lee, 172, 187; - describes Hood’s eyes, 230, 257; - quoted, 289. - - Vicksburg, gunboats pass, 205; - surrender of, reported, 219, 220; - must fall, 247; - a story of the siege of, 295. - - Virginia, and secession, 5. - - von Borcke, Major —, 268, 272; - his name, 285. - - - Walker, John, 394. - - Walker, William, 384. - - Walker, Mrs. —, 49, 112. - - Wallenstein, translations of, 162. - - Ward, Matthias, an anecdote by, 51. - - Washington, city of, deserted, 27; - alarming news from, 49; - why not entered after Bull Run, 90; - how news of that battle was received in, 91; - Confederates might have walked into, 103; - state dinners in, 166. - - Washington, George, at Trenton, 237. - - Washington, L. Q., letters from, 158, 164, 245. - - Watts, Col. Beaufort and Fort Sumter, 42; - a touching story of, 43, 147. - - Wayside Hospital, the, 205; - the author at, 321. - - Weston, Plowden, 160. - - West Point, Ga., 220. - - Whitaker, Maria, and her twins, 45, 386. - - Whiting, Col. —, 31. - - Whiting, Gen. —, 307. - - Whitner, Judge, 26. - - Wigfall, Judge L. T., 29; - speech by, 30; - angry with Major Anderson, 48, 69; - and Mr. Brewster, 73; - quoted, 91; - with his Texans, 96; - an enemy of Mr. Davis, 102; - reconciled with Mr. Davis, 104; - still against Mr. Davis, 261; - and Joe Johnston’s removal, 320; - going to Texas, 373; - on the way to Texas, 377; - remark of, to Simon Cameron, 400. - - Wigfall, Mrs. L. T., 28; - a visit with, 32; - talk with, about the war, 33; - a telegram to, 59; - quoted, 84; - a drive with, 96; - a call on, 266, 275. - - Wilderness, the battle of the, 310. - - Williams, Mrs. David R. (the author’s sister, Kate), 127, 329, 351, 399. - - Williams, Mrs. John N., 129. - - Williamsburg, battle at, 161, 171. - - Wilson, Henry, at Manassas, 89. - - Winder, Miss, arrested, 113. - - Withers, Judge —, 21, 60. - - Withers, Kate, death of, 403. - - Witherspoon, John, 250, 404. - - Witherspoon, Mrs. —, found dead, 129. - - - Yancey, William L., talk from, 120; - letter from, to Lord Russell, 136. - - “Yankee Doodle,” 20. - - Yorktown, siege and evacuation of, 161. - - - - -“EVERY AMERICAN SHOULD READ IT.”—_The News, Providence._ - -The Life and Times of Thomas Jefferson. - - -By THOMAS E. WATSON, Author of “The Story of France,” “Napoleon,” etc. -Illustrated with many Portraits and Views. 8vo. Attractively bound, $2.50 -net; postage, 17 cents additional. - - Mr. Watson long since acquired a national reputation in - connection with his political activities in Georgia. He - startled the public soon afterward by the publication of a - history of France, which at once attracted attention quite as - marked, though different in kind. His book became interesting - not alone as the production of a Southern man interested in - politics, but as an entirely original conception of a great - theme. There was no question that a life of Jefferson from the - hands of such a writer would command very general attention, - and the publishers had no sooner announced the work as in - preparation than negotiations were begun with the author by two - of the best-known newspapers in America for its publication in - serial form. During the past summer the appearance of the story - in this way has created widespread comment which has now been - drawn to the book just published. - -_Opinions by some of the Leading Papers._ - - “A vastly entertaining polemic. It directs attention to many - undoubtedly neglected facts which writers of the North have - ignored or minimized.”—_The New York Times Saturday Review of - Books._ - - “A noble work. It may well stand on the shelf beside Morley’s - ‘Gladstone’ and other epochal biographical works that have come - into prominence. It is deeply interesting and thoroughly fair - and just.”—_The Globe-Democrat, St. Louis._ - - “The book shows great research and is as complete as it could - possibly be, and every American should read it.”—_The News, - Providence._ - - “A unique historical work.”—_The Commercial Advertiser, New - York._ - - “Valuable as an historical document and as a witness to certain - great facts in the past life of the South which have seldom - been acknowledged by historians.”—_The Post, Louisville._ - -D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. - - - - -UNLIKE ANY OTHER BOOK. - -A Virginia Girl in the Civil War. - - -Being the Authentic Experiences of a Confederate Major’s Wife who -followed her Husband into Camp at the Outbreak of the War, Dined and -Supped with General J. E. B. Stuart, ran the Blockade to Baltimore, and -was in Richmond when it was Evacuated. Collected and edited by MYRTA -LOCKETT AVARY. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25 net; postage additional. - - “The people described are gentlefolk to the backbone, and - the reader must be a hard-hearted cynic if he does not fall - in love with the ingenuous and delightful girl who tells the - story.”—_New York Sun._ - - “The narrative is one that both interests and charms. The - beginning of the end of the long and desperate struggle is - unusually well told, and how the survivors lived during the - last days of the fading Confederacy forms a vivid picture of - those distressful times.”—_Baltimore Herald._ - - “The style of the narrative is attractively informal and - chatty. Its pathos is that of simplicity. It throws upon a - cruel period of our national career a side-light, bringing out - tender and softening interests too little visible in the pages - of formal history.”—_New York World._ - - “This is a tale that will appeal to every Southern man and - woman, and can not fail to be of interest to every reader. It - is as fresh and vivacious, even in dealing with dark days, as - the young soul that underwent the hardships of a most cruel - war.”—_Louisville Courier-Journal._ - - “The narrative is not formal, is often fragmentary, and is - always warmly human.... There are scenes among the dead and - wounded, but as one winks back a tear the next page presents a - negro commanded to mount a strange mule in midstream, at the - injustice of which he strongly protests.”—_New York Telegram._ - - “Taken at this time, when the years have buried all resentment, - dulled all sorrows, and brought new generations to the scenes, - a work of this kind can not fail of value just as it can - not fail in interest. Official history moves with two great - strides to permit of the smaller, more intimate events; fiction - lacks the realistic, powerful appeal of actuality; such works - as this must be depended upon to fill in the unoccupied - interstices, to show us just what were the lives of those - who were in this conflict or who lived in the midst of it - without being able actively to participate in it. And of this - type ‘A Virginia Girl in the Civil War’ is a truly admirable - example.”—_Philadelphia Record._ - -D. 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