Left camp at
half-past six, and marched to Falmouth, and staid all night. The bombardment of
Fredericksburg began at daybreak, and lasted till dark, and the city was set on
fire by shells from the Union artillery. Twenty-five rebel prisoners.
SOURCE: John Lord
Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second
Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light
Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 270
Marched to the
railroad, and went into park, where we stopped for the night.
SOURCE: John Lord
Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second
Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light
Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 270
Battle of
Fredericksburg. The cannonading began at sunrise, and was kept up till twelve
o'clock, when the infantry advanced, and there was a continual fire of musketry
for eight hours. Our men charged the rebel batteries a number of times, but
were repulsed every time. The rebel position was a strong one, and their
artillery heavy.
SOURCE: John Lord
Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second
Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light
Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 270
Started out at eight
A.M. Crossed the river on a pontoon-bridge, marched through the city, and went
into battery six hundred yards from the enemy. There was a line of battle in
every street in the city, which were strewn with broken furniture, together
with a number of dead rebels.
SOURCE: John Lord
Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second
Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light
Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 270
On picket at
Fredericksburg all day. Started at half-past six P.M., marched to the upper
part of the city, and went into battery, and threw up earthworks for our guns.
Finished two of them, and got one of the guns into them, when orders came to
evacuate the city with as little noise as possible.
We re-crossed the
river on the morning of the 16th, and were about the last to leave the city.
Nearly every house was broken open, and the contents destroyed.
SOURCE: John Lord
Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second
Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light
Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 270
After getting a
little coffee and hard-tack, we started for our old camp at Potomac Creek.
Arrived there at noon, and found the camp occupied by wagon-train of the First
Army Corps. It rained hard all day.
SOURCE: John Lord
Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second
Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light
Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 270-1
Occupied the time in
fixing up our quarters, and building a stable for the horses.
SOURCE: John Lord
Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second
Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light
Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 271
Arthur Sullivan died at twelve o'clock in the hospital. He was buried with funeral services in the forenoon of Dec. 28. The company marched to the grave with the remains.
SOURCE: John Lord
Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second
Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light
Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 271
WASHINGTON, D. C., Feb. 17, 1852.
MY DEAR SIR,—It is
the wish of the committee that the birthnight celebration come off at Willard's
Hotel on Saturday night, and that you should respond to a sentiment in allusion
to the President and heads of the administration. I intended to call and give
you notice of the position assigned you in the order of the day, but have been
too much occupied. You must hold yourself in readiness for the call made upon
you.
The dinner is an
anti-Kossuth affair, or at least it is intended as a demonstration in favor of
the neutral policy of Washington. It is our intention to have the proceedings
of the evening, with all the speeches, etc., printed in neat pamphlet form for
circulation. Hour of meeting, seven o'clock.
SOURCE: Ann Mary
Butler Crittenden Coleman, Editor, The Life of John J. Crittenden: With
Selections from His Correspondence and Speeches, Vol. 2, p. 27
Mr. Crittenden, in
answer to loud calls from all parts of the hall, rose and said:
Mr. PRESIDENT,—I
regret that in this company, where there are so many others more capable, I
should have been selected and called upon to respond to the toast announcing
the Father of his Country as its mighty theme. You have met, sir, to
commemorate the anniversary of his birth. The occasion and the associations by
which we are surrounded,—here, in the city which he founded, at the capital and
seat of government which he established, in sight of Mount Vernon, his chosen
residence and the sacred sepulchre of his remains,—the occasion and the
associations make us feel as though we were almost brought into his presence;
at least his name is here,—a name which can never die,—a living name, before
which every head in the civilized world is bent in reverence, and to which the
homage of every true American heart is due. [Loud cheers.] I almost fear to
speak on such a subject. The character of Washington has ascended above the
ordinary language of eulogy. A Cæsar, a Napoleon, a Cromwell may excite the
noisy applause of the world, and inflame the passions of men by the story of
their fields and their fame; but the name of Washington occupies a different, a
serener, a calmer, a more celestial sphere. [Great applause.] There is not in
his character, and there is not about his name, any of that turbulence, and
excitement, and glare which constitute glory in the vulgar and worldly sense of
the term. His name has sunk deep into the hearts of mankind, and more
especially has it sunk deep into the mind and heart of America, and in that
secret and inner temple it will reside without any of the forms of ostentatious
idolatry. It resides in the inner recesses of the hearts of his countrymen;
and, like an oracle, is continually whispering lessons of patriotism and of
virtue. [Great cheering.] He never sought or asked for what men call glory. He
sought to serve his kind and his country by his beneficence and his virtues,
and he found in that service, and in the performance of his duty, that only and
that richest reward which can recompense the patriot and the statesman.
[Renewed and enthusiastic applause.] That was our Washington. Let all the rest
of the world present anything like his parallel. The verdict of mankind has
already assigned to him a preeminent and solitary grandeur. [Applause.] In him
all the virtues seemed to be combined in the fairest proportions. The elements
were so mixed in him, and his blood and judgment were so commingled, that all
the virtues seemed to be the natural result, and to flow spontaneously from the
combination, as water from the purest fountain. In him the exercise of the most
exalted virtue required no exertion; it was part and parcel of his nature, and
of the glorious organization "to which every god had seemed to set his
seal." [Applause.] Where was there any error in him? He was a man, and,
therefore, in all humility, we, who share that humanity, must acknowledge that
he had his imperfections; but who, through his long and eventful life, can
point to an error or to a vice committed, or a duty omitted? His character was
made up and compounded of all the virtues that constitute the hero, patriot,
statesman, and benefactor [cheers], and all his achievements were but the
practical developments of that character and of those virtues. [Applause.] He
was the same everywhere,—in the camp, in the cabinet, at Mount Vernon. No
difference could be distinguished anywhere. His greatness was of that innate
and majestic character that was present with him everywhere. It was that which
gave him his dignity, and not the occasional situations or offices which he
held under the government. He dignified office; he elevated the highest rank,
military or civil, which he ever held. No rank, military or civil, ever raised
him, or could come up to that majesty of character which the God of his nature
had implanted in him. [Great cheering.] That was our Washington. He was a firm
believer in a divine Providence, and it belonged to his elevated and majestic
mind to be so, a mind that connected itself with the throne of the Deity from
which it sprung. His heart was purified, and his motives were elevated by
constant recurrence to that divine assistance which he thought was extended to
his country, and to himself in his service of that country. Our history as a
people is, to a remarkable extent, a history of providences; and among all the
benignities of Providence, in a worldly point of view, I know no greater gift
that she has conferred upon us than in the person of Washington himself.
[Cheers.] She raised him up at the appointed time. She raised him up at a grand
crisis in the affairs of mankind, when the thoughts of men were about taking a
new direction; when the old things, the old despotisms, were about to pass away
under the influence of a dawning public opinion which was about to reassert the
long-lost rights of mankind; when you, a new-born people, for whom this mighty
continent had been reserved as the most magnificent land that the Almighty ever
prepared for man, had grown to an estate to feel your strength, to know your
rights, and to be willing to struggle for them; Washington was raised up to
become the great leader of those great popular principles of human rights, and
to consecrate them, as it were, by connecting them in his own person with every
personal, moral, private, and public virtue; not leaving us to mere idealism,
but exhibiting and embodying, in his own venerated and beloved person, all
those mighty principles which were necessary to our success and to the
establishment of our liberties. He led us triumphantly through a seven years'
war; and our glorious Revolution being successfully accomplished, he applied
himself, with all his influence and all his wisdom, to secure, by free and
permanent institutions, all the blessings that liberty and independence could
confer on his country. Our present Constitution and form of government were the
grand results of his patriotic efforts. A new government being thus
established, he was by the unanimous voice of his country called to the
presidential office, that by his wisdom and influence he might put into
practice and consolidate those new and untried institutions, by which all the
blessings acquired by the Revolution and contemplated by that government were
to be practically secured to the people of the United States. He served till
the success of the experiment was demonstrated. He retired then to his beloved
Mount Vernon, and there passed in honored privacy the remainder of his life.
Where can another such character be exhibited on the pages of history?
Providence intended him for a model. She has made his character cover the whole
space of political and of private life. [Applause.] She trained him up in the
humblest walks of private life. There he knew the wants and wishes and
condition of the humblest of his fellow-citizens. The confidence which he
inspired everywhere spread with every step that he advanced in life. He became
commander of the army. With all the military despotism that belongs to such a
state, he used his power without the oppression of a human being. During a
seven years' war, amid such trials and troubles as no people ever saw, in no
exigency, by no extremity, was he driven to the necessity of committing a
trespass or wrong upon any man or any man's property. He needed no act of
amnesty afterwards, by the government, to protect him against personal
responsibility, which acts of violence might have rendered necessary to others.
He led you triumphantly on. He was an example to all military men. He became
President. He has left us an example there, to which we look back with filial
reverence, and long, long may we do so. [Great applause.]
Before his
retirement from office, he made to the people of the United States that
"Farewell Address" so familiar to the thoughts of us all. It
contains, as he himself said, the advice of a parting friend, who can possibly
have no personal motive to bias his counsel. It was the gathered wisdom of all
his life and of all his experience. What a legacy! We rejoice in riches that no
nation ever knew before. What are the mines of California with their perishing
gold to this? You have a legacy left you in the wisdom of that man that is
above all price. The Romans shouted, the Romans exulted, when Mark Antony told
them that Cæsar had left them a few denarii, and the privilege of walking in
his gardens. That was the imperial bequest. How ignoble, how trifling, does the
Roman seem to you, my countrymen, who exult to-day in the legacy which was left
you in the Farewell Address of Washington! [Great applause.] That is
imperishable. So long as we remember it, it will render our government and our
liberties imperishable; and when we forget it, it will survive in the memory, I
trust in God, of some other people more worthy of it, even if it be to shame
this degenerate republic. [Enthusiastic applause.] That Farewell Address
contains wisdom enough, if we but attend to it; contains lessons enough to
guide us in all our duties as citizens, and in all our public affairs.
[Applause.] There are two subjects which recent occurrences have turned our
attention to with particular interest, and which I may be allowed on this
occasion to advert to, in no spirit of controversy or of unkindness towards any
one, but in that spirit which induces me to desire to see every lesson of
Washington daily, and constantly, and freshly brought to the mind of every
citizen of the United States. To my children they were brought as their first
lessons. There is none too old to profit by them, and they cannot be learned
too early. You are familiar with that address, gentlemen, and I will therefore
only ask you to allow me to allude to the two subjects upon which he has been
peculiarly emphatic in his advice. The one is to preserve the union of the
States [loud cheers]; that, he says, is the main pillar of the edifice of our
independence and of our liberties; frown down every attempt to bring it into
question, much less to subvert it; when it is gone all is gone. Let us heed
this lesson, and be careful. I trust in God we have no grounds to apprehend
such a degree of oppression as will compel us to raise our suicidal arms for
the destruction of this great government, and of this Union which makes us
brethren. [Great applause.] I do not allow my mind to look forward to such a
disaster. I will look upon this Union as indissoluble, and as firmly rooted as
the mountains of our native land. I will hope so; I will believe so. I will so
act; and nothing but a necessity, invincible and overwhelming, can drive me to
disunion. This is the sentiment, as I understand it, which Washington
inculcates. Thank God, we have every hope of the restoration of every kind
feeling now which made us, in times past, a united band of brothers from one
end of this land to the other. [Loud cheers.] But there are external dangers,
also, against which Washington warns us; and that is the second subject to
which I desire to ask your attention. Beware, he says, of the introduction or
exercise of a foreign influence among you. [Loud and prolonged cheering.] We
are Americans. Washington has taught us, and we have learned to govern
ourselves. [Cheers.] If the rest of the world have not yet learned that great
lesson, how shall they teach us? Shall they undertake to expound to us the
Farewell Address of our Washington, or to influence us to depart from the
policy recommended by him? [Great cheering.] We are the teachers, and they have
not, or they will not, learn; and yet they come to teach us. [Here the whole
company rose, and gave three tremendous cheers.] Be jealous, he said, of all
foreign influence, and enter into entangling alliances with none. Cherish no
particular partiality or prejudice for or against any people. [Cheers.] Be just
to all,—impartial to all. It is folly to expect disinterested favors from any
nation. [Great cheering.] That is not the relation or character of nations.
Favor is a basis too uncertain upon which to place any steadfast or permanent
relations. Justice and the interests of the parties is the only sound and
substantial basis for national relations. So said General Washington,—so he
teaches. He asks, "Why quit our own, to stand on foreign ground?"
[Cheers.] Go not abroad to mingle yourselves in the quarrels or wars of other
nations. Take care to do them no wrong, but avoid the romantic notion of
righting the wrongs of all the world, and resisting by arms the oppression of
all. [Great cheering.]
The sword and the
bayonet have been useful in defending the rights and liberties of those who
used them, but in what other hands have they ever contributed to promote the
cause of freedom or of human rights? [Cheers.] The heart must be prepared for
liberty. The understanding must know what it is, and how to value it. Then, if
you put proper arms into the hands of the nation so imbued, I'll warrant you
they will obtain and sustain their freedom. [Applause.] We have given the world
an example of that success. But three millions, scattered over a vast
territory, opposed to the most powerful enemy on earth, we went triumphantly
through our Revolution and established our liberties. [Cheers.] But it is said
that we have a right to interfere in the affairs of other nations, and in the
quarrels of other nations. Why, certainly we have, certainly we have. Any man
has the right, if he pleases, to busy himself in the affairs and quarrels of
all his neighbors; but he will not be likely to profit by it, and would be
called a busybody for his pains. [Laughter and applause.] We, as a nation, have
a right to decide—and it is always a question of expediency whether we will or
will not interfere in the affairs of other nations. There are cases so
connected with our own interests, and with the cause of humanity, that
interference would be proper. But still, it is a question for the sound
discretion of this people, a question always of expediency,—whether you will or
will not interfere; and it is just because it is a question of that character,
and because our passions and sympathies may often tempt us to err upon it, that
Washington has made it the subject of this emphatic admonition. [Applause.] It
is not because we have not the right to interfere, but it is because we have
the right, and because we are surrounded by temptations, by the temptations of
generous hearts and noble principles,— to transcend the limits of prudence and
of policy, and to interfere in the affairs of our neighbors, that he has
admonished us. [Applause.] Washington, with that forecast and that prophetic
spirit which constituted a part of his character, saw through all this. He knew
the warm and generous natures of his countrymen. He knew their susceptibility,
and he knew where the danger of error was; and it is there that his wisdom has
erected, as far as his advice can do it, a bulwark for our protection.
[Applause.] He tells you, "Stand upon your own ground." [Renewed
applause.] That is the ground to stand upon.
What can you do by
interference? Argument is unnecessary. The name of Washington ought to be
authority,—prophetic, oracular authority for us. Is our mission in this world
to interfere by arms? It is but little now, comparatively, of good that the
bayonet and the sword can do. The plowshare does a thousand times more than
either. [Great cheering.] The time was when arms were powerful instruments of
oppression; but they cannot do much now, unless they are aided by the mercenary
and degenerate spirit of the people over whom they are brandished. What could
we do by armed interference in European politics? So mighty at home, what could
we do abroad? How would our eagles pine and die if carried abroad, without the
auspices of Washington, and against his advice, to engage in foreign wars of
intervention, in distant regions of despotism, where we could no longer feed
them from the plenteous tables of our liberty! [Enthusiastic applause.] We can
do nothing there. We can do nothing in that way. I am not one of those who
shrink from this thing simply because blood is to be shed. I have seen war. I
have voted for maintaining it. I have contributed to maintain it. I pretend to
no exquisite sensibility upon the subject of shedding blood where our public
interest or our public glory call upon my fellow-citizens to lay down their
lives and shed their blood. [Applause.] But I do not wish to see them depart
from those great and sure principles of policy which I am certain will lead my
country to a greatness which will give to her word a power beyond that of
armies in distant parts of the world. [Cheers.]
Our mission, so far
as it concerns our distant brethren, is not a mission of arms. We are here to
do what Washington advised us to do,—take care of our Union, have a proper
respect for the Constitution and laws of our country, cultivate peace and commerce
with all nations, do equal justice to all nations, and thereby set an example
to them, and show forth in ourselves the blessings of self-government to all
the world. [Applause.] Thus you will best convince mankind. Seeing you prosper,
they will follow your example, and do likewise. It is by that power of opinion,
by that power of reformation, that you can render the mightiest and greatest
service that is in your power towards the spread of liberty all over the world.
Adopt the policy of interference, and what is its consequence? War, endless
war. If one interferes, another will interfere, and another, and another, and
so this doctrine for the protection of republican liberty and human rights
results in a perpetual, widespread, and wider-spreading war, until all mankind,
overcome by slaughter and ruin, shall fall down bleeding and exhausted.
[Applause.] I can see no other end, or good in it, unless you suppose that
nations will consent that one alone shall erect itself into the arbiter and
judge of the conduct of all the other nations, and that it alone shall
interfere to execute what it alone determines to be national law. That alone
can prevent widespread devastation from the adoption of this principle of
intervention.
I beg pardon for the
time I have occupied, but I hope that I may be excused for saying that I feel
safer, I feel that my country is safer, while pursuing the policy of
Washington, than in making any new experiments in politics, upon any new
expositions of Washington's_legacy and advice to the American people. [Great
cheering.] I want to stand super antiquas vias,— upon the old road that
Washington traveled, and that every President, from Washington to Fillmore, has
traveled. [Great cheering.] This policy of non-intervention in the affairs of
other countries has been maintained and sanctified by all our great
magistrates. [Renewed cheering.] I may be defective in what is called "the
spirit of the age," for aught I know; but I acknowledge that I feel safer
in this ancient and well-tried policy than in the novelties of the present day.
And now, in
conclusion, I hope I may be excused for saying that it has been the effort, and
the honest effort, of the present administration-I ask no compliment for it-to
follow in the
track that
Washington marked out, and, with whatever unequal steps, it has endeavored to
follow after him. That has been the model upon which Mr. Fillmore has
endeavored, as it regarded all foreign countries, to fashion the course of
policy of his administration. [Great applause.]
(Close of the
Congressional Banquet given in memory of General Washington, 22d of February,
1852, in Washington City.)
Mr. Crittenden rose
and said: This is the anniversary of the battle of Buena Vista. We commemorate
it as the birthday of our Washington. I have said that Washington is a name
that cannot die; it is a living name, and it will be a living name until we as
a people are dead. It fought with us at the battle of Buena Vista. The name
passed from soldier to soldier when those fearful odds of battle were counted:
twenty-five thousand to four or five thousand raw militia! and the frequent
exclamation heard among our ranks that "This is Washington's birthday”
gave strength to every arm and fortified the courage of every heart. The name
and spirit of Washington enabled us to conquer that day.
An honored and
venerable gentleman (Mr. Curtis) has said “that the grave claims its due."
Well, let the old usurer have it. What is it at last that is his due? The poor
corporeal remnants of this poor humanity.
The spirit lives
after it. The spirit of Washington is immortal, and still moves and acts upon
the hearts of his countrymen. His form—his visible bodily form—has passed away
from us, that majestic form “where every god had set his seal to give the world
assurance of a man." [Cheers.] That is buried! gone beyond our sight! But
his great spirit remains with us that potent, mighty spirit; mighty to save,
mighty to inspire, mighty to do battle for his countrymen, for whom he lived—for
whom he died. That spirit did inspire us at Buena Vista, and to its influence
we owe that memorable victory. It lives everywhere,—lives, sir, in us. The
judge upon the bench partakes it. Presidents and generals acknowledge its
power, and seek to emulate and follow the example of Washington. I know from
intimate and long acquaintance that that old soldier (pointing to General
Scott) who has so victoriously commanded our armies and led them to battle and
to victory, has felt and cultivated the influence of that spirit, that his
great ambition has been to fashion himself after that model man, General
Washington.
But, Mr. President,
we cannot well celebrate the 22d of February without having our hearts turned,
also, to some memory of the victory of Buena Vista,—occurring on the same day, and
seeming to have emanated from the nativity of our Washington to shed, like a
bright star, new lustre upon it.
We cannot think of
Buena Vista without a grateful remembrance of that famous old soldier and
leader to whom, under Providence, we were indebted for that victory—a victory
almost without a parallel in history. The battles of his life are all over, and
he sleeps with the mighty dead.
Allow me to offer
you the illustrious name of that brave, good, and patriotic man, the hero of
Buena Vista, General Taylor, the late President of the United States.
This toast was drunk
standing and in silence.
SOURCE: Ann Mary
Butler Crittenden Coleman, Editor, The Life of John J. Crittenden: With
Selections from His Correspondence and Speeches, Vol. 2, p. 28-36
It is a hard thing
to say, but I am going to say it. I don't admire all the men who wear the
Confederate uniform! I would rather dig holes in the ground than talk to some
of them!
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 282
I could eat a tallow
candle if I had a good one. But I have accepted an invitation to dine with the
Trenholms—in my dreams!
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 282
There now! Somebody
was as cross today as Sir Fretful himself, and as cold as an irate
step-grandmother. How ridiculous! Especially when we don't do anything to make
other people like us and pay us attention.
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 282
Made two new
acquaintances today. One is a soporific, and the other—well, I don't understand
him, and I haven't got time to try to understand everybody.
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 282
A great joy has come
to me this day, an unlooked-for, an inexpressible joy! A card was brought to
me, and I took it with a sigh, because so many cards are brought in and we have
so little time for rest. But the name upon that particular card made my heart
thump and thump so fast I thought it would thump clean out of my body. It was
my dear brother's name—the scout, who has been in prison two years, first at
Camp Chase and recently at Fort Delaware. Without stopping as usual to give a
last touch to my hair, I rushed into his presence and into his arms. He's the
rowdiest, shabbiest, patchiest looking fellow you ever saw, but as handsome as
ever, and the same old darling. We talked and talked; we crowded the talk of
two long years of separation into two short hours of face to face. It is a
thrilling romance, the way he escaped from prison. In a dead man's shoes it
was! That man's name was Jesse Tredway, and he died in his bunk after his name
had been entered on the list of exchange. My brother put his dead comrade in
his own bunk and said nothing. He answered to his name in the roll call and
quietly took his place in the ranks of the outgoing prisoners. The details of
that journey homeward, the recital of his adventures and narrow escapes from
detection all along the route, is something to be heard from his own lips in
order to be appreciated. The recital made the blood tingle in my veins and then
suddenly run cold; made my pulses throb and then suddenly cease almost to throb
at all. Think of it! The recklessness of the deed, and his subsequent anxiety
and fear of detection every moment. In the soft veil of the night, in the white
light of the morning, under the noonday sun, under the midnight stars, even in
the stillness of sleep, never to be rid of the fear of detection. His very life
hung upon the issue, for he had made up his mind to shoot down the first man
who remanded him back to prison. Thank God! he was never detected, never
remanded back! He will now journey on without delay, on foot, for the most
part. He has no money to pay his passage—but what of that? It is a pleasure to
him to walk on God's fair earth again, no longer a shut-up animal in a cage;
the earth is full of a new glory for him, the glory of sweet liberty. The exile
has returned to his home.
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 282-3
Congressman Farrow
asked me today if I were feeling well. Come to think of it, I do not feel well.
My nerve forces seem to be all out of tune, and my digestion is impaired—in
fact, a general malaise appears to be the result of hardtack on my
constitution.
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 283
My head aches; I
have no appetite (and nothing fit to eat, either); my senses are dull. Heaven
grant I may not be ill in Richmond! At this particular epoch, it is the place
for everything else, but no place to be sick in.
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 283
Mr. Duncan brings us
the weightiest news. The Confederacy is going to the dogs—or, did he say the devil?
That young lieutenant was right. We may have to fly from Richmond as we did
from Columbia. It is a profound secret as yet; but he warns us to be ready to
leave on quick notice. Are we to be driven to the wall? I can't believe it! But
somehow—somehow—my heart is as barren of hope tonight as the great Sahara of
water.
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 283
Indeed, something
very serious is astir in military circles. After arranging everything, the M.
P. has had to give up the projected outing on the James? It is not safe—a fight
is brewing.
Doubtless I should
worry more if I felt better; when the head is so confused with pain, and the
nerves unstrung, all other matters are secondary.
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 283-4
Feel better today.
Mr. Connelly gave us a collation in the hotel in lieu of the abandoned picnic.
Very swell, despite the blockade. Must have cost him a pretty sum. I told Mr.
Duncan I would not leave Richmond, so full of a certain charm is the life here;
but of course have had to give in, and now am ready for another flight as soon
as he notifies us.
SOURCE: South
Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South
Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate
Girl's Diary,” p. 284
