Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: November 30, 1863 – First Entry

I must describe an adventure I had in Kingsville. Of course, I know nothing of children: in point of fact, am awfully afraid of them.

Mrs. Edward Barnwell came with us from Camden. She had a magnificent boy two years old. Now don't expect me to reduce that adjective, for this little creature is a wonder of childlike beauty, health, and strength. Why not? If like produces like, and with such a handsome pair to claim as father and mother! The boy's eyes alone would make any girl's fortune.

At first he made himself very agreeable, repeating nursery rhymes and singing. Then something went wrong. Suddenly he changed to a little fiend, fought and kicked and scratched like a tiger. He did everything that was naughty, and he did it with a will as if he liked it, while his lovely mamma, with flushed cheeks and streaming eyes, was imploring him to be a good boy.

When we stopped at Kingsville, I got out first, then Mrs. Barnwell's nurse, who put the little man down by me. “Look after him a moment, please, ma'am,” she said, “I must help Mrs. Barnwell with the bundles,” etc. She stepped hastily back and the cars moved off. They ran down a half mile to turn. I trembled in my shoes. This child! No man could ever frighten me so. If he should choose to be bad again! It seemed an eternity while I waited for that train to turn and come back again. My little charge took things quietly. For me he had a perfect contempt, no fear whatever. And I was his abject slave for the nonce.

He stretched himself out lazily at full length. Then he pointed downward. “Those are great legs,” said he solemnly, looking at his own. I immediately joined him in admiring them enthusiastically. Near him he spied a bundle. “Pussy cat tied up in that bundle.” He was up in a second and pounced upon it. If we were to be taken up as thieves, no matter, I dared not meddle with that child. I had seen what he could do. There were several cooked sweet potatoes tied up in an old handkerchief—belonging to some negro probably. He squared himself off comfortably, broke one in half and began to eat. Evidently he had found what he was fond of. In this posture Mrs. Barnwell discovered us. She came with comic dismay in every feature, not knowing what our relations might be, and whether or not we had undertaken to fight it out alone as best we might. The old nurse cried, “Lawsy me!” with both hands uplifted. Without a word I fled. In another moment the Wilmington train would have left me. She was going to Columbia.

We broke down only once between Kingsville and Wilmington, but between Wilmington and Weldon we contrived to do the thing so effectually as to have to remain twelve hours at that forlorn station.

The one room that I saw was crowded with soldiers. Adam Team succeeded in securing two chairs for me, upon one of which I sat and put my feet on the other. Molly sat flat on the floor, resting her head against my chair. I woke cold and cramped. An officer, who did not give his name; but said he was from Louisiana, came up and urged me to go near the fire. He gave me his seat by the fire, where I found an old lady and two young ones, with two men in the uniform of common soldiers.

We talked as easily to each other all night as if we had known one another all our lives. We discussed the war, the army, the news of the day. No questions were asked, no names given, no personal discourse whatever, and yet if these men and women were not gentry, and of the best sort, I do not know ladies and gentlemen when I see them.

Being a little surprised at the want of interest Mr. Team and Isaac showed in my well-doing, I walked out to see, and I found them working like beavers. They had been at it all night. In the break-down my boxes were smashed. They had first gathered up the contents and were trying to hammer up the boxes so as to make them once more available.

At Petersburg a smartly dressed woman came in, looked around in the crowd, then asked for the seat by me. Now Molly's seat was paid for the same as mine, but she got up at once, gave the lady her seat and stood behind me. I am sure Molly believes herself my body-guard as well as my servant.

The lady then having arranged herself comfortably in Molly's seat began in plaintive accents to tell her melancholy tale. She was a widow. She lost her husband in the battles around Richmond. Soon some one went out and a man offered her the vacant seat. Straight as an arrow she went in for a flirtation with the polite gentleman. Another person, a perfect stranger, said to me, '”Well, look yonder. As soon as she began whining about her dead beau I knew she was after another one.” “Beau, indeed!” cried another listener, “she said it was her husband.” “Husband or lover, all the same. She won't lose any time. It won't be her fault if she doesn't have another one soon.”

But the grand scene was the night before: the cars crowded with soldiers, of course; not a human being that I knew. An Irish woman, so announced by her brogue, came in. She marched up and down the car, loudly lamenting the want of gallantry in the men who would not make way for her. Two men got up and gave her their seats, saying it did not matter, they were going to get out at the next stopping-place.

She was gifted with the most pronounced brogue I ever heard, and she gave us a taste of it. She continued to say that the men ought all to get out of that; that car was “shuteable” only for ladies. She placed on the vacant seat next to her a large looking-glass. She continued to harangue until she fell asleep.

A tired soldier coming in, seeing what he supposed to be an empty seat, quietly slipped into it. Crash went the glass. The soldier groaned, the Irish woman shrieked. The man was badly cut by the broken glass. She was simply a mad woman. She shook her fist in his face; said she was a lone woman and he had got into that seat for no good purpose. How did he dare to? — etc. I do not think the man uttered a word. The conductor took him into another car to have the pieces of glass picked out of his clothes, and she continued to rave. Mr. Team shouted aloud, and laughed as if he were in the Hermitage Swamp. The woman's unreasonable wrath and absurd accusations were comic, no doubt.

Soon the car was silent and I fell into a comfortable doze. I felt Molly give me a gentle shake. “Listen, Missis, how loud Mars Adam Team is talking, and all about ole marster and our business, and to strangers. It's a shame.” “Is he saying any harm of us?” “No, ma'am, not that. He is bragging for dear life 'bout how ole ole marster is and how rich he is, an' all that. I gwine tell him stop.” Up started Molly. “Mars Adam, Missis say please don't talk so loud. When people travel they don't do that a way.”

Mr. Preston's man, Hal, was waiting at the depot with a carriage to take me to my Richmond house. Mary Preston had rented these apartments for me.

I found my dear girls there with a nice fire. Everything looked so pleasant and inviting to the weary traveler. Mrs. Grundy, who occupies the lower floor, sent me such a real Virginia tea, hot cakes, and rolls. Think of living in the house with Mrs. Grundy, and having no fear of “what Mrs. Grundy will say.”

My husband has come; he likes the house, Grundy's, and everything. Already he has bought Grundy's horses for sixteen hundred Confederate dollars cash. He is nearer to being contented and happy than I ever saw him. He has not established a grievance yet, but I am on the lookout daily. He will soon find out whatever there is wrong about Gary Street.

I gave a party; Mrs. Davis very witty; Preston girls very handsome; Isabella's fun fast and furious. No party could have gone off more successfully, but my husband decides we are to have no more festivities. This is not the time or the place for such gaieties.

Maria Freeland is perfectly delightful on the subject of her wedding. She is ready to the last piece of lace, but her hard-hearted father says “No.” She adores John Lewis. That goes without saying. She does not pretend, however, to be as much in love as Mary Preston. In point of fact, she never saw any one before who was. But she is as much in love as she can be with a man who, though he is not very handsome, is as eligible a match as a girl could make. He is all that heart could wish, and he comes of such a handsome family. His mother, Esther Maria Coxe, was the beauty of a century, and his father was a nephew of General Washington. For all that, he is far better looking than John Darby or Mr. Miles. She always intended to marry better than Mary Preston or Bettie Bierne.

Lucy Haxall is positively engaged to Captain Coffey, an Englishman. She is convinced that she will marry him. He is her first fancy.

Mr. Venable, of Lee's staff, was at our party, so out of spirits. He knows everything that is going on. His depression bodes us no good. To-day, General Hampton sent James Chesnut a fine saddle that he had captured from the Yankees in battle array.

Mrs. Scotch Allan (Edgar Allan Poe's patron's wife) sent me ice-cream and lady-cheek apples from her farm. John R. Thompson,¹ the sole literary fellow I know in Richmond, sent me Leisure Hours in Town, by A Country Parson.

My husband says he hopes I will be contented because he came here this winter to please me. If I could have been satisfied at home he would have resigned his aide-de-campship and gone into some service in South Carolina. I am a good excuse, if good for nothing else.

Old tempestuous Keitt breakfasted with us yesterday. I wish I could remember half the brilliant things he said. My husband has now gone with him to the War Office. Colonel Keitt thinks it is time he was promoted. He wants to be a brigadier.

Now, Charleston is bombarded night and day. It fairly makes me dizzy to think of that everlasting racket they are beating about people's ears down there. Bragg defeated, and separated from Longstreet. It is a long street that knows no turning, and Rosecrans is not taken after all.

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¹ John R. Thompson was a native of Richmond and in 1847 became editor of the Southern Literary Messenger. Under his direction, that periodical acquired commanding influence. Mr. Thompson's health failed afterward. During the war he spent a part of his time in Richmond and a part in Europe. He afterward settled in New York and became literary editor of the Evening Post.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 253-8

Local Matters

REMOVAL. – John R. Dow has moved the Suits stock of boots and shoes to his store, No. 25 Brady street, where he will continue to retail at wholesale prices.

NEW styles of spring delaines and prints, ladies colored and white corsets, toilet quilts and counterpanes, striped and chequed namsooks, French prints and many other styles of goods just received at Wadsworths.

FIRE IN ROCK ISLAND. – A fire occurred about 4 o’clock yesterday morning in Rock Island on Eagle street, between Illinois and Orleans.  It burned F. Ludolph’s harness shop, a saloon, and a portion of the store of Smyth Brothers, on the corner of Illinois and Eagle streets. The property burnt was insured for $2,250.

SCHOOL ELECTION. – On Monday comes off our annual school election, and this evening a nomination meeting will be held at the court house for the purpose of suggestion suitable persons for the position.  We have heard of no candidate yet except for Secretary, for which position there are three in the field – Messrs. E. Peck, the present incumbent, Mahlon D. Snyder, and Otto Smith.  Either would make a good officer.  There should be a good turn out of the voters to-night.

A FIGHT occurred yesterday on the levee near Brady street between a German and a boy named Jacob Smith, in which it is said the latter name came off first best, and the other getting a broken nose.  The affair is said to have begun about a load of coal which the German had bought of Smith, but of which he refused to pay the weighage.  After the fight, a number of persons caught the boy and undertook to hold him till an officer should arrest him, but another crowd released him, and sent him on his way rejoicing.  The affair created quite an excitement on Brady street, and seemed at one time to threaten a general row.

ROCKY MOUNTAIN RANGE. – We are indebted to our scientific fellow citizen, Dr. C. C. Parry, for the advance sheets of Sullivan’s Journal, containing a “Physiographical sketch of that portion of the Rocky Mountain range and the head waters of South Clear Creek, and east of Middle Park: with an enumeration of the plants collected in this district in the summer months of 1861.”  It is the result of Dr. Parry’s trip to that locality and gives a very interesting description of a portion of our territory that, perhaps less than any other, has been examined by scientific men.  To the botanist the report is one of rare interest.

LOOK OUT FOR THE BRIDGES. – It has been suggested to us to call the attention of the county authorities to the safety of the bridges throughout the county, in case of a heavy freshet, of which there is considerable danger, owing to the immense accumulation of snow on the prairie.  Such a freshet would endanger the bridges over every stream in the county.  There is probably no way to protect them now, unless it be by placing a number of men at the bridges armed with long poles with which they could prevent the ice form gorging against the abutments.  The heavy freshet of 1857 carried away, we believe, every bridge on Duck Creek, and such a thing is possible again.

SHARP PRACTICE. – The defeated party at the late municipal election at Le Claire, we are informed, take the matter rather to heart.  In one of the wards, which gave the successful ticket about 20 majority, the judges, who were on the other side, neglected to sign the returns.  The mayor sent them back for their signatures, which they appended on Tuesday evening, and then went before a magistrate and made affidavit that the whole thing was illegal, on the ground that more than two days elapsed since the election before the returns were made, contrary to the charter.  The Mayor suggested that as one of the days was Sunday their objection wasn’t of any account.  They talk of taking it into court.  Much good that will do them.

THE PRICE OF GAS in the city of Peoria has been reduced from what the Transcript of that city terms, the high rate heretofore charged of $3.50 per thousand feet, to $2.50.  ‘The former high rate,’ says the above authority, ‘induced many gas consumers to resort to coal oil as a substitute; but the reduced price gas will be very little more expensive, and we have no doubt will again be used in preference.’  Here we are charged $4.50 per thousand feet for gas.  The result will be that as kerosene can be furnished for less than one-half that amount, and supplies nearly as good light, many of our citizens will adopt it instead.  It strikes us that our Gas Company would consult their own interest by reducing the price of gas, before our citizens ascertain the economy of kerosene by introducing it more generally into their houses.

IOWA MAIL LETTINGS. – Mr. J. B. Grinnell, special agent, whishes us to state that it is of importance to the Post office Department, and to those who wish to make bids for carrying the mails for the four years ensuing, and to the people of the State of Iowa who desire additional mail facilities that it should be kept in mind that bids will be received at the contract office in Washington not later than the 31^st day of March.  Full proposals may be found published in the DAILY GAZETTE.  Bids are invited on more than 200 routes, for near 2,000 miles of daily service, 2,500 tri-weekly, 2,000 semi-weekly, and more than 4,000 weekly.  Of the above on 70 routes there is a proposal for an increase of service, being an aggregate distance of 1,600 miles.  It is thought that the desired increase of service will not be granted, unless the bids are low.  The Post Office Department confidently anticipates such a competition as will materially lessen the cost of mail transportation.  A new supply of blanks for proposals will be found at the post office in this city, or can be obtained by writing to the postmaster.

CLEAR THE GUTTERS.  – The Council passed an ordinance last Wednesday, requiring all persons to clear their sidewalks of snow, now that the snow is over for the season, as we trust.  As yet we haven’t witnessed any very great activity in this particular line of business – the thaw rendering it almost unnecessary.  While on this subject, we would suggest the propriety of clearing out the gutters, especially in the streets running toward the river, so that the water need not spread all over the sidewalks  and streets, to the great discomfort of pedestrians.  For several days, if not weeks, it is probable the streets will be in fluid condition, and a movement of the kind suggested would be of great benefit to the peregrinating public.

SLEIGHING. – Beneath the milder rays of the sun during the last two days the snow has slowly disappeared.  Since the 23d of December we have uninterrupted sleighing.  Soon we will no longer be able to chime with Edgar A. Poe:

Here the sleighs with the bells –

Silver bells!

What a world of merriment their melody foretells!

How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,

In the icy air of night!

While the stars that ever sprinkle

All the heavens seem to twinkle

With a crystalline delight;

Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of Runic rhyme.

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells

From the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells –

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

Notice.

At the special request of a number of our citizens the Rev. Mr. BUTTERFIELD will repeat, on Sabbath evening next, the sermon he delivered on the 24^th ult., on “The Duty of Praying for Our Rulers in the Present Crisis.”

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Saturday Morning, March 8, 1862, p. 1