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.
SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin
and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 281-2
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