A Confederate Girl's Diary Part 14
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After supper last night, by way of variety, Anna, Miriam, and I came up to our room, and after undressing, commenced popping corn and making candy in the fireplace. We had scarcely commenced when three officers were announced, who found their way to the house to get some supper, they having very little chance of reaching Clinton before morning, as the cars had run off the track. Of course, we could not appear; and they brought bad luck with them, for our corn would not pop, and our candy burned, while to add to our distress the odor of broiled chicken and hot biscuit was wafted upstairs, after a while, in the most provoking way. In vain we sent the most pathetic appeals by each servant, for a biscuit apiece, after our hard work. Mrs. Carter was obdurate until, tired out with our messages, she at last sent us an empty jelly-cup, a shred of chip beef, two polished drumsticks, and half a biscuit divided in three. With that bountiful repast we were forced to be content and go to bed.
At sunrise this morning, Mrs. Carter left to go down to her father in Iberville, to see her stepmother who is expected to die. Scarcely had she gone when six more officers and soldiers came in from the still stationary cars to get their breakfast. We heard that Mr. Marsden, too, was down there, so the General sent him a nice breakfast, and I sent my love with it; but he had already breakfasted at Mr. Elder's. As soon as they left, we prepared for church, and just as we were ready, Captain Brown and Mr. Addison were announced. The Doctor greeted us with an elegant bow, but they did not remain long, as we were about going out.
Many officers were in church, and as I pa.s.sed out, Colonel Breaux joined me, and escorted Miriam and me to the carriage, where we stood talking some time under the trees before getting in. He gave us a most pressing invitation to name a day to visit the camp that he might "have the pleasure of showing us the fortifications," and we said we would beg the General's permission to do so. Charming Colonel Breaux! Like all nice men, he is married, of course. He and another officer drove just behind our carriage in coming home, until we came to the fork of the road. Then, leaning from their buggy, both gentlemen bowed profoundly, which we as cordially returned. Two more behind followed their example, and to our great surprise, ten, who were seated in a small wagon drawn by two diminutive mules, bowed also, and, not content with that, rose to their feet as the distance between the two roads increased, and raised their caps, though in the most respectful silence. Rather queer; and I would have said impertinent had they been any others than Confederates fighting for us, who, of course, are privileged people.
September 24th.
Yesterday the General saluted us with "Young ladies, if you will ride in a Confederate carriage, you may go to dress parade this evening."
Now, in present phraseology, "Confederate" means anything that is rough, unfinished, unfas.h.i.+onable, or poor. You hear of Confederate dresses, which means last year's. Confederate bridle means a rope halter. Confederate silver, a tin cup or spoon. Confederate flour is corn meal, etc. In this case the Confederate carriage is a Jersey wagon with four seats, a top of hickory slats covered with leather, and the whole drawn by mules. We accepted gladly, partly for the ride and sight, partly to show we were not ashamed of a very comfortable conveyance; so with Mrs. Badger as chaperon, we went off in grand style. I must say I felt rather abashed and wished myself at home as we drove into town, and had the gaze of a whole regiment riveted on us.
But soon the men fell in line, and I did not feel so painfully conspicuous. I was amused at a contrast near by, too. There was but one carriage present, besides ours, though there were half a dozen ladies on horseback. This carriage was a very fine one, and in it sat three of the ugliest, dowdiest, worst dressed females I ever saw. We three girls sat in our rough carriage as comfortable as could be, dressed--well, we could not have been dressed better--and looking our very best. _Sans mentir_, I think the Confederates were much the most respectable.
And what a sad sight the Fourth Louisiana was, that was then parading!
Men that had fought at s.h.i.+loh and Baton Rouge were barefooted. Rags was their only uniform, for very few possessed a complete suit, and those few wore all varieties of colors and cuts. Hats could be seen of every style and shape, from the first ever invented down to the last one purchased evidently some time since. Yet he who had no shoes looked as happy as he who had, and he who had a cap had something to toss up, that's all.
Four or five that we knew gathered around our vehicle and talked to us.
Mr. Heuston told me he heard I had been thrown, severely injured, had a narrow escape, etc. Was not thrown! Saddle turned. A few steps off we recognized Mr. Scales. He would stare very hard at us, and if we turned towards him, would look quickly the other way as though afraid to meet our gaze. Presently he gave us an opportunity, and we bowed. He came forward eagerly, blus.h.i.+ng deeply, and looking very much pleased, and shook hands with us, and remained some time talking. He said he had not heard of our arrival, but would call as soon as possible. Mr. Talbot had joined Breckinridge.
Having seen the last of that parade, he invited us to see that of his sailors, which was next; but it was too far; so we turned off to see Colonel Breaux's, a mile away. His, the Thirtieth Louisiana, is a beautiful encampment on a large open common. Parade was almost over as we reached there, and soon the Colonel came to meet us. I did not look at the drill. I was watching the hundreds of tents--it looked like a great many--and was wondering how men could live in such places, and was trying to fancy what George's or Gibbes's looked like. It was pleasant to watch the barefoot soldiers race around like boys let loose from school, tossing caps and chips at two old gray geese that flew in circles around the encampment, just as though they had never had more earnest work. One gray-headed man stood in the door of his tent, while a black-headed young one danced before him, to his own whistle, with his arms akimbo. Altogether it was a very pretty picture; but poor men!
how can they be happy in these tents?
September 26th, Friday.
_Sarah Morgan._ X.
My mark finds me at Linwood, though I had not the slightest idea that it would. Wonder where twenty pages beyond will find me? At home, I hope and pray, though I am as happy here as I could possibly be in any place on earth.
Stirring news from our armies comes pouring in. Sunday, Colonel Breaux told me of Wool's defeat, and the great number of prisoners, cannon, and the large supplies of stores and ammunition that we had captured.
Then Tuesday we heard of three great battles in Maryland, the third one still continuing; but no particulars of any of them. Yesterday came tidings of our having recrossed the Potomac, and to-day we hear that McClellan's army has been cut to pieces; but whether it is the same old fight or a new one, I cannot as yet learn; for reliable information is not easily obtained in America at this period.
Did I ever record how little truth there was in any of that last Clinton news? It speaks for itself, though. Not a boat lay at Baton Rouge; Camp Moore was not even threatened; Ponchatoula Station was burned, but the one battery was retaken by our men the same night.
[Ill.u.s.tration: LINWOOD]
But still these false reports cannot equal the Yankees'. Take, for instance, the report of the Captain of the Ess.e.x. I give General Carter as my authority. The Captain reports having been fired on by a battery of thirty-six large guns, at Port Hudson, some weeks ago, when he opened fire and silenced them, one after the other, from the first to the last. Not a shot from the "rebel" batteries reached them, and not a casualty on their side occurred. But the loss of the Confederates must have been awful. He came within--I forget how many--yards from the sh.o.r.e, and there was not a live man to be seen. He did not mention if there were any dead ones! Now for the other side. There were but four guns mounted there at the time. Shot and sh.e.l.l from those four certainly reached something, for one was seen to enter a porthole, from whence issued frightful shrieks soon after, and it is well known that the Ess.e.x is so badly injured by "something" as to be in a sinking condition, and only kept afloat by a gunboat lashed on either side. If she is uninjured, why did she not return and burn Natchez as she announced? In leaving Port Hudson, where "not a live man was to be seen" (nor a dead one to be found), she stopped at Mr. Babin's, just below Dr. Nolan's, where she remained the rest of the day. After she left, being curious to discover the reason of her short stay, Mr. Babin walked to the place where she had been, and discovered sixteen fresh graves on the bank. If they buried them as they did at Baton Rouge and Vicksburg, four in a grave, how many would they be? But granting there were but sixteen, would that prove the veracity of the Captain? Poor man! Perhaps he is related to Pope, and cannot help himself.
September 27th.
I often wonder how lies first came into the world, and whether those who originate them do not believe them as firmly as any one else would believe truth. Lying seems to be the common creed of children and servants.
Anna told me of having heard Lennice telling the other servants that she knew there were spirits, because I often talked to them. Every morning and evening I walked to the graveyard with a basket of flowers, and would sit by father's and Harry's graves and call their spirits to me; and they would all fly to me, and talk and sing with me for hours until I would tell them good-bye and go home, when they would go away too. I suppose the ignorant girl, having foundation enough from my frequent visits there, which were most often alone, made up the rest to account for my never seeming to like company out there. The fervent "Good Lord" with which the tale was received by the other servants, and the full credence they gave it, might have proved unpleasant if further circulated; and I believe some members of the family found it necessary to put an end to it at once.
And speaking of the graveyard recalls something I heard for the first time last night. Miriam was telling me that Tiche had asked if we knew that Mr. Sparks had visited Harry's grave? That he had got a basket of flowers from the Davidsons, and had made their driver carry it for him.
And the man had told her that, after filling the vases with roses, and spreading them over the grave, he had thrown himself on it with a shriek of despair, calling on Harry to forgive him; that it was only because forced by his father that he had killed him; and calling on G.o.d to prove that he would give his life gladly to recall Harry's. The man thought him a raving maniac and fled in terror. Miriam asked f.a.n.n.y if it was true, and she said yes; she had gathered the flowers for him herself.
I saw them there, but little knew whose hand had brought them. I perceived at once that they were not mine, and touched even to tears by so silent an offering from an unknown person, I said, "It is some woman's work; G.o.d bless the hand that laid them there." I cannot say how much that little tribute affected me. And, Mr. Sparks, I do not retract the blessing now. No! "G.o.d have mercy on him!" has been my prayer ever since I knew what an awful loss you had caused us. G.o.d knows that I never even desired this revenge--remorse standing over his grave. It has ever been, "G.o.d pity and forgive!"--never yet for an instant, "G.o.d pursue and avenge!"
September 28th.
We were roused up at four o'clock last night by the arrival of Lydia and Eugene Carter,[11] the first from Virginia and the second from Tennessee; and, of course, there was very little sleep for any of us, so anxious were we to hear the news they brought. First I learned that Gibbes was safe up to the 17th; that George, in spite of the advice of his surgeon, had rejoined Stonewall Jackson in Maryland; and Jimmy was mids.h.i.+pman on the ironclad Palmetto State at Charleston. How thankful I was to hear that much, I need not say. Lydia said they all three looked remarkably well; Jimmy handsomer than ever. After that, news of all kinds came indiscriminately. The boys were very anxious about us, but had no idea of our misfortunes or whereabouts. They believed us still in Baton Rouge, and feared we had been there during the battle. Lydia only heard of our house having been plundered when she reached Alabama, so of course they are still ignorant of it. They were all very homesick, but said that we were their only trouble.
[11] Lydia, daughter of General Carter and wife of Captain Thomas Gibbes Morgan; Eugene, eldest son of General Carter, and husband of Helen mentioned in the Diary.
A few of the C----s' stories had reached them through brother officers; and George swore to make himself understood by those ladies if he ever saw them again. A gentleman from Cooper's Wells told Lydia that they never tired of repeating their stories to every new arrival; and no man was suffered to depart without having heard a few. If a gentleman friend of ours or the boys inquired if they knew the Miss Morgans of Baton Rouge, "Oh, yes!" would be the answer, "intimately! But you know they have turned Yankee. Received Federal officers every day, and placed all their property under Yankee protection. I" (or "my sister,"
as it happened who was retailing the lie, meaning Mrs. S----) "slept in their house when it was surrounded by a Yankee guard. Oh, they are perfectly in favor of the Yankees," and so on. Think of a common, low soldier who stopped for b.u.t.termilk somewhere where Anna was, introducing the subject. "It is all false!" Anna interrupted. The man answered, "Oh, Miss! you don't suppose we believe it? We would not believe such stories of any young ladies, much less these; for if they are true, their conduct must have been perfectly disgraceful. But though we know these stories to be lies, it does not prevent their being discussed in camp."...
Lydia saw Mr. McG----, too, at Lynchburg, who sent me his "regards."
Poor fellow! He says he still has "dreams"! He told her a few, but she says they were chiefly about meeting me at a ball, when I always treated him with the most freezing coldness. The same old nightmare.
How often he has told me of that same dream, that tormented him eighteen months ago. He says he often thinks of me now--and he still "dreams" of me! "Dreams are baseless fabrics whose timbers are mere moonbeams." Apply your own proverb!...
A clatter of hoofs down the road! And bent over the window-sill which is my desk, my fingers are not presentable with the splattering of this vile pen in consequence of my position. Two hours yet before sundown, so of course I am not dressed. They come nearer still. Now I see them!
Dr. Addison and Mr. M----! I shall not hurry my toilet for them. It will take some time to comb my hair, too. Wish I could remain up here!
Tuesday, September 30th.
It required very little persuasion to induce those gentlemen to stay to supper, the other evening, and it was quite late before they took their leave. Dr. Addison I was very much pleased with, and so were all the rest. Mr. M----, none of us fell desperately in love with. He is too nonchalant and indifferent, besides having a most peculiar p.r.o.nunciation which grated harshly on my ears, and that no orthography could fully express. "Garb," for instance, was distorted into "gairb,"
"yard" into "yaird," "Airkansas," and all such words that I can only imitate by a violent dislocation of my lower jaw that puts Anna into convulsions of laughter--only she would laugh the same if it was _not_ funny. This Kentuckian p.r.o.nunciation grates "hairshly" on my Southern ears. Miriam addressed herself exclusively to the Doctor, so I was obliged to confine my attention entirely to neglected Mr. M----, in which pious duty I was ably and charitably seconded by the General.
Speaking of the bravery and daring displayed by the Southern soldiers during this war, Mr. M---- mentioned the dangerous spot he had seen us in the first day we went down to the "Airkansas" and said that, lying directly across the point from the Ess.e.x, they expected every instant to see one of her sh.e.l.ls explode among us, and were very uneasy about our position, as we did not seem to know the danger. I asked him if he had observed anything peculiar among the dozen planters and overseers standing a short distance from us, when the Captain sent us word that our position was a very dangerous one, as they expected the Ess.e.x to open fire every instant, and we had best stand below the levee, higher up, where we would be safe from sh.e.l.ls. "I noticed that before any of you understood your position, every man had disappeared as though by magic." Now I had noticed that myself. When I turned, under shelter of the levee, our gallant planters were galloping off in the distance.
While Ginnie and I looked and laughed, we suddenly found ourselves the sole objects on the horizon; the other girls were in the road below, going carelessly toward the carriage; so we followed, having lost sight of the brave representatives of Southern chivalry, being the last to leave the supposed field of danger. To my former remark, let me add that there is only one set who take better care for their safety than married women; and that set is composed exclusively of the "Home Guard." Timid girls, either through ignorance or fun, compose the majority of the brave "men" that the volunteer service has not absorbed.
October 1st, Wednesday.
Just after sunset yesterday, Anna and I were walking down the road towards the sugar-house, she reading occasionally from Abbott's "Napoleon," and then pausing for me to explain the _very_ difficult pa.s.sages she could not understand, when we suddenly became aware of the approach of a horse, and raising our bowed heads, beheld Colonel Breaux and another before us, to our infinite surprise and astonishment. The Colonel sprang from his horse and advanced on foot; his companion slowly followed his example, and was introduced as Captain Morrison. We adjourned our historical fit for some future period, and walked home with the gentlemen. Miriam did not get back from her excursion to the cane-patch until it was quite late; when after sitting down a few moments, she ran upstairs to change her dress. She had just put it on an hour before, but nothing would do but she must dress up fine; so she put on her handsomest organdie. In vain I pointed to my simple pink muslin with a white body that I had worn all day, and begged she would not make the contrast between us more striking than ever, as I felt I could not change it without exciting remark. She was obdurate; dressed herself in gorgeous array, and, as usual, I looked like her lady's maid.
Colonel Breaux paid my hair the most extravagant compliments. He said he could not say his prayers for looking at it in church, Sunday before last. Perhaps that is the reason St. Paul said a woman should not wors.h.i.+p in church with her head uncovered! But as the Yankees stole my bonnet, I am reduced to wearing my black straw walking-hat with its curled brim, trimmed in black ribbon with golden sheaves of wheat. Two years ago this fall, father threw me a banknote at table, and I purchased this with it. Now it is my only headgear, except a sunbonnet.
Before leaving, which was not until quite late, this evening was named for our ride to the fortifications, to our infinite delight, as we have dreamed and talked of nothing else for a week....
A dispatch just received from Gibbes, from Mobile, on his way home. I am so happy! But what can bring him? I fear--
Lydia has gone to Clinton to meet him at Lilly's.
October 2d, Thursday.
With what extraordinary care we prepared for our ride yesterday! One would have thought that some great event was about to take place. But in spite of our long toilet, we stood ready equipped almost an hour before Colonel Breaux arrived. I was standing in a novel place--upon the bannisters looking over the fields to see if he was coming--and, not seeing him, made some impatient exclamation, when lo! he appeared before me, having only been concealed by the wood-pile, and O my prophetic soul! Captain Morrison was by his side!
There was quite a cavalcade of us: Mr. Carter and his wife, Mrs. Badger and Mrs. Worley, in two buggies; the three boys, who, of course, followed on horseback, and the two gentlemen, Miriam, Anna, and I, riding also. It was really a very pretty sight, when Captain Morrison and I, who took the lead going, would reach the top of one of the steep hills and look down on the procession in the hollow below. Fortunately it was a very cloudy evening; for, starting at four, it would have been very unpleasant to ride that distance with the sun in our faces.
As we reached the town we heard the loud report of two cannon which caused the elder ladies to halt and suggest the propriety of a return.
But if it was a gunboat, that was the very thing I was anxious to see; so we hurried on to the batteries. It proved to be only practicing, however. At the first one we stopped at, the crew of the Arkansas were drilling. After stopping a while there, we followed the river to see the batteries below. It was delightful to ride on the edge of a high bluff with the muddy Mississippi below, until you fancied what would be the probable sensation if the horse should plunge down into the waters; then it ceased to be so pleasant. The great, strong animal I rode could have carried me over without a protest on my part; for the ridiculous bit in his mouth was by no means suited to his strength; and it would require a more powerful arm than mine to supply the deficiency. Miriam had generously sacrificed her own comfort to give him to me; and rode fiery Joe instead of her favorite. But it was by no means a comfort to me. Then Anna was not reconciled to her pony while I was on such a fine horse, until I proposed an exchange, and gladly dismounted near an old mill two miles and a half below Port Hudson, as we returned home.
In leaving the town, we lost sight of the buggies, as there was no carriage road that might follow the bluff; and though there was one just back, we never saw our buggies again. Once, following a crescent, far below us lay the water battery concealed by the trees that grew by the water's edge, looking, from where we stood, like quite a formidable precipice. Then still beyond, after leaving the river, we pa.s.sed through a camp where the soldiers divided their attention equally between eating their supper and staring at us in the most profound silence. Then, through an old gate, down a steep hill, past a long line of rifle-pits, a winding road, and another camp where more men stared and cooked their supper, we came to the last battery but one, which lay so far below that it was too late to visit it. We returned highly delighted with what we had seen and our pleasant ride. It was late when we got back, as altogether our ride had been some fifteen miles in length. As soon as we could exchange our habits for our evening dresses, we rejoined our guests at the supper-table, where none of us wanted for an appet.i.te except poor Captain Morrison, who could not be tempted by the dishes we so much relished. After supper, Colonel Breaux and I got into a discussion, rather, _he_ talked, while I listened with eyes and ears, with all my soul.... What would I not give for such knowledge! He knows everything, and can express it all in the clearest, purest language, though he says he could not speak a word of English at fourteen!
A Confederate Girl's Diary Part 14
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