Shall I cry, faint, scream, or go off in hysterics? Tell me
which, quickly; for to doubt this news is fine and imprisonment, and if I
really believe it I would certainly give way to my feelings and commit some
vagaries of the kind. My resolution is formed! I will do neither; I won't
gratify the Yankees so much. I have been banging at the piano until my fingers
are weary, and singing “The Secret through Life to be Happy” until my voice is
cracked; I’ll stand on my head if necessary, to prove my indifference; but I’ll
never believe this is true until it is confirmed by stronger authority.
Day before yesterday came tidings that Vicksburg had fallen
on the 4th inst. The “Era” poured out extras, and sundry little popguns fizzled
out salutes. All who doubted the truth of the report and were brave enough to
say so were fined or imprisoned; it has become a penal offense to doubt what
the “Era” says; so quite a number of arrests were made. This morning it was
followed up by the announcement of the capture of Port Hudson. The guns are
pealing for true, and the Yankees at headquarters may be seen skipping like
lambs, for very joy. And I still disbelieve! Skeptic! The first thing I know
that “Era” man will be coming here to convert me! But I don't, can't, won't
believe it! If it is true, — but I find consolation in this faith: it is
either true, or not true, — if it is true, it is all for the best, and if it is
not true, it is better still. Whichever it is, is for some wise purpose;
so it does not matter, so we wait, pray, and believe.
5 o'clock, P.M. I don't believe it? What am I crying about
then? It seems so hard! How the mighty are fallen! Port Hudson gone! Brother
believes it. That is enough for me. God bless him! I cry hourly. He is so good
and considerate. He told me, “Name your friends, and what can be done for them
shall be attended to. The prisoners will be sent here. Maybe I cannot do much;
but food and clothing you shall have in abundance for them when they arrive.”
God bless him for his kindness!
O dear, noble men! I am afraid to meet them; I should do
something foolish; best take my cry out in private now. May the Lord look down
in pity on us! Port Hudson does not matter so much; but these brave, noble
creatures! The “Era” says they had devoured their last mule before they
surrendered.
SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's
Diary, p. 394-5
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