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
battlefield. 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 heartbroken mothers are hard
to face.
SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin
and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 201-2
