In spite of its being Sunday, no sooner was dinner concluded
yesterday than we adjourned, as usual, to the sugar-house to see how much
damage we could do. Each took from a negro his long paddle, and for more than
half an hour skimmed the kettles industriously, to the amazement of half a
dozen strange soldiers who came to see the extraordinary process of
sugar-making. At one time the two boys taking possession of the two other
paddles, not a negro was at the kettles, but stood inspecting our work. The
hardest part we found to be discharging the batteries, which none of us could
do without their assistance.
We had no sooner relinquished our paddles than some one
announced two gentlemen at the house. While we were discussing the possibility
of changing our dresses before being seen, enter Mr. Enders and Gibbes Morgan1
of Fenner's battery. No retreat being possible, we looked charmed and
self-possessed in spite of plain calicoes and sticky hands. . . . Mr. Enders
very conveniently forgot to bring my nuage. He says he started expressly
to do so, but reflecting that I might then have no inducement to pay that visit
to Port Hudson, he left it for another time. . . . We arranged a visit to
Gibbes, and Mr. Enders made me promise to call at General Beale's headquarters
for a pass. “They will want you to go to the Provost Marshal's for it, but you just
come to General Beale's, and send a courier for me, and I will bring it myself!”
— and half in fun, half in earnest, I promised.
_______________
1 H. Gibbes Morgan, a cousin.
SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's
Diary, p. 278-9
