Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 1, 1864

A bright windy day, and not cold. The President has a reception to-day, and the City Councils have voted the hospitalities of the city to Brig.-Gen. J. H. Morgan, whose arrival is expected. If he comes, he will be the hero, and will have a larger crowd of admirers around him than the President. The Councils have also voted a sword to ex-Gov. Letcher, whose term of service ended yesterday. Gov. Wm. Smith—nicknamed Extra-Billy—is to be inaugurated to-day.

Flour is now held at $150 per barrel. Capt. Warner has just sold me two bushels of meal at $5 per bushel; the price in market is $16 per bushel.

I did not go to any of the receptions to-day; but remained at home, transplanting lettuce-plants, which have so far withstood the frost, and a couple of fig-bushes I bought yesterday. I am also breaking up some warm beds, for early vegetables, and spreading manure over my little garden: preparing for the siege and famine looked for in May and June, when the enemy encompasses the city. I bought some tripe and liver in the market at the low price of $1 per pound. Engaged to pay $250 hire for our servant this year.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 122-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 13, 1861

Dry goods have risen more than a hundred per cent, since spring, and rents and boarding are advancing in the same ratio.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 92

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: November 29, 1862

Nothing of importance from the army. The people of Fredericksburg suffering greatly from the sudden move. I know a family, accustomed to every luxury at home, now in a damp basement-room in Richmond. The mother and three young daughters cooking, washing, etc.; the father, a merchant, is sick and cut off from business, friends, and every thing else. Another family, consisting of mother and four daughters, in one room, supported by the Work of one of the daughters who has an office in the Note Signing Department. To keep starvation from the house is all that they can do; their supplies in Fredericksburg can't be brought to them — no transportation. I cannot mention the numbers who are similarly situated; the country is filled with them. Country houses, as usual, show a marvellous degree of elasticity. A small house accommodating any number who may apply; pallets spread on the floor; every sofa and couch sheeted for visitors of whom they never heard before. If the city people would do more in that way, there would be less suffering. Every cottage in this village is full; and now families are looking with wistful eyes at the ball-room belonging to the hotel, which, it seems to me, might be partitioned off to accommodate several families. The billiard-rooms are taken, it is said, though not yet occupied. But how everybody is to be supported is a difficult question to decide. Luxuries have been given up long ago, by many persons. Coffee is $4 per pound, and good tea from $18 to $20; butter ranges from $1.50 to $2 per pound; lard 50 cents; corn $15 per barrel; and wheat $4.50 per bushel. We can't get a muslin dress for less than $6 or $8 per yard; calico $1.75, etc. This last is no great hardship, for we will all resort to homespun. We are knitting our own stockings, and regret that we did not learn to spin and weave. The North Carolina homespun is exceedingly pretty, and makes a genteel dress; the only difficulty is in the dye; the colours are pretty, but we have not learned the art of setting the wood colours; but we are improving in that art too, and when the first dye fades, we can dip them again in the dye.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 172-3

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Friday, January 3, 1862

Last evening threatened snow but too cold. Today cold and dry. P. M. 4 o'clock began to rain; may rain for a month now.

Charles, an honest-looking contraband — six feet high, stout-built, thirty-six years old, wife sold South five years ago,— came in today from Union, Monroe County. He gives me such items as the following: Footing boots $9 to $10. New boots $18 to $20. Shoes $4 to $4.50. Sugar 25 to 30 [cents a pound], coffee 62½ , tea $1.50, soda 62½, pepper 75, bleached domestic 40 to 50 [cents a yard.] Alex Clark [his master], farmer near Union (east of it), Monroe County, one hundred and fifty (?) miles from Fayetteville — fifty miles beyond (?) Newbern. Started Saturday eve at 8 P. M., reached Raleigh next Monday night; crossed New River at Packs Ferry. (Packs a Union man.)

Companies broken up in Rebel army by furloughs, discharges, and sickness. Rich men's sons get discharges. Patrols put out to keep slaves at home. They tell slaves that the Yankees cut off arms of some negroes to make them worthless and sell the rest in Cuba for twenty-five hundred dollars each to pay cost of war. “No Northern gentlemen fight — only factory men thrown out of employ.” They (the negroes) will fight for the North if they find the Northerners are such as they think them.

Union is a larger and much finer town than Fayetteville. William Erskine, keeper of Salt Sulphur Springs, don't let Rebels stay in his houses. Suspected to be a Union man. Lewisburg three times as large as Fayetteville. Some Fayetteville people there. People in Greenbrier [County] don't want to fight any more.

General Augustus Chapman the leading military man in Monroe. Allen T. Capelton, the other mem[ber] of Legislature, Union man, had his property taken by them. Named Joshua Seward, farmer. Henry Woolwine, ditto, for Union, farmer, [living] near Union — three and three and one-half miles off. Dr. Ballard a good Union man (storekeeper) on the road from Giles to Union, twelve miles from Peterstown, also robbed by Floyd. Wm. Ballard and a large connection, all Union men — all in Monroe. Oliver Burns and Andrew Burns contributed largely to the Rebels. John Eckles in Union has a fine brick house — a Rebel colonel. Rebels from towards Lynchburg and Richmond would come by way of Covington, forty-five miles from Union. Landlords of principal hotel Rebels — one at Manassas. Two large, three-story high-school buildings, opposite sides of the street, on the hill this end of town. “Knobs,” or “Calder's Peak,” three miles from town. A hilly country, but more cleared and better houses than about Fayetteville.

They “press” poor folks' horses and teams not the rich folks'. Poor folks grumble at being compelled to act as patrols to keep rich men's negroes from running off. “When I came with my party, eleven of us, in sight of your pickets, I hardly knew what to do. If you were such people as they had told us, we would suffer. Some of the party turned to run. A man with a gun called out halt. I saw through the fence three more with guns. They asked, ‘Who comes there?’ I called out ‘Friends.’ The soldier had his gun raised; he dropped it and said: ‘Boys, these are some more of our colored friends,’ and told us to ‘come on, not to be afraid,’ that we were safe. Oh, I never felt so in my life. I could cry, I was so full of joy. And I found them and the major (Comly) and all I have seen so friendly — such perfect gentlemen, just as we hoped you were, but not as they told us you were.”

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 175-7

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: December 9, 1863

“Come here, Mrs. Chesnut,” said Mary Preston to-day, “they are lifting General Hood out of his carriage, here, at your door.” Mrs. Grundy promptly had him borne into her drawing-room, which was on the first floor. Mary Preston and I ran down and greeted him as cheerfully and as cordially as if nothing had happened since we saw him standing before us a year ago. How he was waited upon! Some cut-up oranges were brought him. “How kind people are,” said he. “Not once since I was wounded have I ever been left without fruit, hard as it is to get now.” “The money value of friendship is easily counted now,” said some one, “oranges are five dollars apiece.”

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 263

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: December 5, 1863

Wigfall was here last night. He began by wanting to hang Jeff Davis. My husband managed him beautifully. He soon ceased to talk virulent nonsense, and calmed down to his usual strong common sense. I knew it was quite late, but I had no idea of the hour. My husband beckoned me out. “It is all your fault,” said he. “What?” “Why will you persist in looking so interested in all Wigfall is saying? Don't let him catch your eye. Look into the fire. Did you not hear it strike two?”

This attack was so sudden, so violent, so unlooked for, I could only laugh hysterically. However, as an obedient wife, I went back, gravely took my seat and looked into the fire. I did not even dare raise my eyes to see what my husband was doing — if he, too, looked into the fire. Wigfall soon tired of so tame an audience and took his departure.

General Lawton was here. He was one of Stonewall's generals. So I listened with all my ears when he said: “Stonewall could not sleep. So, every two or three nights you were waked up by orders to have your brigade in marching order before daylight and report in person to the Commander. Then you were marched a few miles out and then a few miles in again. All this was to make us ready, ever on the alert. And the end of it was this: Jackson's men would go half a day's march before Peter Longstreet waked and breakfasted. I think there is a popular delusion about the amount of praying he did. He certainly preferred a fight on Sunday to a sermon. Failing to manage a fight, he loved best a long Presbyterian sermon, Calvinistic to the core.

“He had shown small sympathy with human infirmity. He was a one-idea-ed man. He looked upon broken-down men and stragglers as the same thing. He classed all who were weak and weary, who fainted by the wayside, as men wanting in patriotism  If a man's face was as white as cotton and his pulse so low you scarce could feel it, he looked upon him merely as an inefficient soldier and rode off impatiently. He was the true type of all great soldiers. Like the successful warriors of the world, he did not value human life where he had an object to accomplish. He could order men to their death as a matter of course. His soldiers obeyed him to the death. Faith they had in him stronger than death. Their respect he commanded. I doubt if he had so much of their love as is talked about while he was alive. Now, that they see a few more years of Stonewall would have freed them from the Yankees, they deify him. Any man is proud to have been one of the famous Stonewall brigade. But, be sure, it was bitter hard work to keep up with him as all know who ever served under him. He gave his orders rapidly and distinctly and rode away, never allowing answer or remonstrance. It was, ‘Look there — see that place — take it!’ When you failed you were apt to be put under arrest. When you reported the place taken, he only said, ‘Good!’”

Spent seventy-five dollars to-day for a little tea and sugar, and have five hundred left. My husband's pay never has paid for the rent of our lodgings. He came in with dreadful news just now. I have wept so often for things that never happened, I will withhold my tears now for a certainty. To-day, a poor woman threw herself on her dead husband's coffin and kissed it. She was weeping bitterly. So did I in sympathy.

My husband, as I told him to-day, could see me and everything that he loved hanged, drawn, and quartered without moving a muscle, if a crowd were looking on; he could have the same gentle operation performed on himself and make no sign. To all of which violent insinuation he answered in unmoved tones: “So would any civilized man. Savages, however — Indians, at least — are more dignified in that particular than we are. Noisy, fidgety grief never moves me at all; it annoys me. Self-control is what we all need. You are a miracle of sensibility; self-control is what you need.” “So you are civilized!” I said. “Some day I mean to be.”

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 261-3

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: December 4, 1863

My husband bought yesterday at the Commissary's one barrel of flour, one bushel of potatoes, one peck of rice, five pounds of salt beef, and one peck of salt — all for sixty dollars. In the street a barrel of flour sells for one hundred and fifteen dollars.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 261

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: February 26, 1864

The currency is in a transition state, and it does create the strangest difficulties. Sister pays today $20 for having a home-made cotton dress made up. Unbleached cottons are $8 per yard. People are trading as far as possible, instead of paying money. As for example, the shoemaker tells me that he won't make a pair of shoes for me unless I send him a load of wood; so before the shoes can be had, the wood is sent. Flour is selling at $250 per barrel.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 177

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: February 29, 1864

G. and H. at Sally White's birthday party; H. said they had “white mush” on the table; on inquiry, I found it was ice-cream! Not having made any ice-cream since war-times, the child had never seen any, and so called it white mush. The only luxury I long for is real coffee. I have drunk wheat coffee for more than two years, till I am made a dyspeptic by it. Coffee has sold at $16 a pound. Tea is now $40 per pound.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 178

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: February 19, 1864

Everybody is in an excitement about the currency bill, which we heard of last night. Confederate money is refused this morning. On the 1st of April it is to sink to two thirds its present value; so everybody is trying to get it off their hands. I have ceased noting the prices of things, they are so incredible; as, for example, $30 per gallon for sorghum molasses; calico, $12 per yard; tallow candles, $6 per pound; unbleached cotton, $5 per yard. It is astonishing how coolly we talk about the probability next summer of having to relinquish the Valley, and how our plans take in that probability. Oh! but we are growing weary of this horrid war! How it oppresses us!

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 177

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: November 16, 1863

Was present tonight at Louisa Brockenborough's wedding at the Episcopal Church; a beautiful affair; eight bridesmaids; one of the bride's silk dresses cost between $500 & $600 for the unmade material.  Wood is now $30 per cord; flour $100 per barrel in Richmond, $50 here, and rising. Butter selling here by the quantity for $3.50 per lb.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 171-2

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: June 30, 1863

Bought E. a ninepence calico dress today, for which I gave $30! Unbleached, very coarse cottons are now $2.25 per yard.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 167

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: June 1, 1863

As I mean to keep a note of the way prices advance, I will mention that the perfectly plain crape bonnet which Mrs. Jackson got in Richmond cost $75 and a bombazine dress, as plain as could be made, cost about $180. Mr. P. paid for some days' work of a white man, a short while ago, at $8 per diem.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 166

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: April 21, 1863

Made a few purchases today; two common gingham aprons for G. for which I gave $12! Two thin, very common cotton stockings, $4 per pair! Ten cent handkerchiefs at $2.50 apiece. This little note book is a record of prices more than any thing else; yet when I look back a year or six months, to pages where I have made notices of prices, how very reasonable they seem now!

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 162

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: April 15, 1863

. . . Today made two petticoats (for E. and self) out of a window curtain. “Necessity is the mother of invention.” Cut a pair of drawers for Mr. P. out of a sheet; not because I could well spare the sheet, but because I had nothing else; unbleached cotton not to be had, or if obtainable, $2 per yard.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 162

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: March 18, 1863

Planted out a few trees today, which I had gotten from a man in Lynchburg; paid $25 for them, and can hardly see them in the yard. Heard Phil say that Mr. Jim Smith had sold some fine seed potatoes for 25 cents apiece, and that $20 was paid by Mr. Tutwiler for one bushel of onions. . . .

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 161

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: January 9, 1863

So eventless have the last few days been that it has not been worth while to make any note of them. Have been busy as usual, sewing, &c.  . . . It is amazing, and sorrowful too, to see how the language, operations, &c. of war are understood and imitated by the children. Almost their entire set of plays have reference to a state of war. George cuts lines of soldiers every day; marches them about; has battles; beats “the Yankees,” and carries off prisoners. Builds hospitals with blocks and corn-cobs; drives ambulances with chairs; administers pills to his rag-boy-babies, who are laid up in bed as sick and wounded soldiers. He gets sticks and hobbles about, saying that he lost a leg at the Second battle of Manassas; tells wonderful stories of how he cut off Yankees' heads, bayoneted them, &c. He has an old cartridge box and haversack, and with a stick for a sword, and something stuck in his belt for pistols, he struts about, bids me good-by daily with entire gravity, as his furlough is out and he must go to his regiment again. Little Herbert also kills “Lankees,” as he calls them, and can talk war lingo almost as well as George. The children are more familiar with war language than I was when I was grown up. They can tell all about pickets, cavalry, cannon, ambulances, &c. Sad indeed that very infancy has learned such language!

. . . Had a present that I hailed with a joy that cannot be easily imagined, yesterday — a pair of coarse shoes for little Herbert! Agnes sent them to him. The last two pair I had made him, and I had no more soles, so was at my wits' end; no shoemaker can be prevailed upon, for any money, to make a pair of child's shoes. Heard W. F. J. say, the other day, that he had married K. G. not long since, in a plain bombazine dress, the simple dress pattern of which cost $110! Potatoes are now $5 a bushel. The price of negroes is enormous. A young girl sold on the street the other day for a few dollars short of $2000. Heard of a not at all “likely” woman of 40 and her two babies selling for $3000.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 158-9

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: September 3, 1862

Yesterday asked the price of a calico dress; “Fifteen dollars and sixty cents!” Tea is $20. per lb. A merchant told me he gave $50. for a pound of sewing silk! The other day our sister, Mrs. Cocke,^[1] purchased 5 gallons of whiskey, for which, by way of favor, she only paid $50.! It is selling for $15. per gallon. Very coarse unbleached cotton (ten cent cotton) I was asked 75 cts. for yesterday. Eight dollars a pair for servants' coarse shoes. Mr. P. paid $11. for a pair for Willy. These prices will do to wonder over after a while.

10 o'clock P. M. Little did I think, when I wrote the above, that such sorrow would overtake this family so soon! News came this afternoon of the late fearful fight on Manassas Plains, and of Willy Preston^[2] being mortally wounded — in the opinion of the surgeons! His Father was not at home, and did not hear the news for some time. Oh! the anguish of the father-heart! This evening he has gone to Staunton; will travel all night in order to take the cars tomorrow morning. I am afraid to go to bed, lest I be roused by some messenger of evil tidings, or (terrible to dread) the possible arrival of the dear boy — dead! Father in Heaven! Be merciful to us, and spare us this bitterness!

_______________

^[1] Elizabeth Randolph Preston Cocke, sister of John Thomas Lewis Preston and the wife of William Armistead Cocke

^[2] William C. Preston, son of John Thomas Lewis Preston and his first wife Sarah Lyle Caruthers.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 146-7

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: August 2, 1862

What straits war reduces us to! I carried a lb. or so of sugar and coffee to Sister Agnes lest she should not have any, and she gave me a great treasure — a pound of soda! When it can be had, it is $1.25 per lb.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 146

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: May 28, 1862 – After Dark

Phil returned with the carriage; Mr. P. went on to Winchester in an ambulance. Phil heard a gentleman say to him, just as he was stepping into the ambulance, that he was just from Winchester, and Frank was not so ill as he might expect to find him. This is some alleviation of the suspense. Heard today of a son of Dr. Breckenridge's being killed at Shiloh; also, a cousin of Mr. P. being desperately wounded. Two dead soldiers passed through Lexington today. Last week eight dead bodies passed through. We are getting so used to these things, that they cease to excite any attention. Jackson has gained a great success, and the papers ring with eulogiums on “old Stonewall” as they delight to call him. We have heard today of five Lexington boys being wounded at Winchester; Frank P. the only one seriously so.

Miss Magdalen Reid tells me that in buying groceries to begin housekeeping, she paid 45 cents for brown sugar, $1 per lb. for coffee, and $4.50 for tea! The coarsest domestic cotton I ever saw — such as very few servants would be willing to wear, I can only get for 75 cents per yard. Calico, when it can be had at all, is the same price. These records will be interesting for reference hereafter.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 142