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.
SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin
and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 158
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