March 6th [1863]. Rained hard all day long. Could but pity the Federal soldiers soaking out at Camp Weitzel. Could but pity ourselves, too, shut up all day long with one who has not an idea in common with ourselves, but who will insist in talk about the war all the time, stopping long enough only to read the same sort of boasting stuff in the newspapers which have been filling them for months. Oh, how tired I am. I have never known before what ennui or loneliness meant, except when with uncongenial company. Mrs. N—— thinks we feel no interest in the war—if we don’t have peace soon I think I shall soon lose my senses. We had an “extra” this afternoon which I read aloud. Nothing in it worth the trouble. The loss of our Nashville boat and the capture of the Indianola and coal barges being all known before. I looked out just as I was going to bed; beautiful sight after a day of storm. The wet streets lay like pure silver beneath a lustrous full moon and stars, and soft white clouds strode the blue as peacefully as if we were all good and happy here below. The stars used to calm my most wretched moods—now they fill me with an unutterable longing.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
March 6—Several of us out of our company went to Kinston and the battlefield. The Yankees are very poorly buried, as we saw several heads, hands and feet sticking out of the ground, where the rain had washed the dirt off of them.
March 6, Friday. Appointments considered yesterday and to-day. Generally conceded that Field of California was the man for the Supreme Court. The Court of Claims seems a peace court. The Court for the District is more important, and unfortunately the hearts and sympathies of the present judges are with the Rebels.
Mrs. Lyon’s Diary.
March 6, 1863.—Raining, and no boat. I decided to go to Fort Donelson. We got there near dark, tired almost to death. Found Minerva quite sick. All the ladies came here and we got supper for them, two ambulance loads. William came out to help the ladies out. I came out first and he was so glad to see me that he took me into the house and forgot what he went out for, but was excused. They laughed at him and joked him. He had secured a large room in a large house for headquarters. We will try living in a house for awhile.
Friday, 6th—I was detailed to go on picket with Company D. Had quite a thunderstorm this evening.
Washington Friday March 6th 1863.
No news today of any importance from the armies or from the southern coast. We are in a State of great anxiety just now. It seems so important that we should now hear of Victories and I cannot but think that our troops will be successful wherever they strike at the Rebels. We are in a better condition now to strike hard blows than we have ever been before. Our armies now in the field are stronger than ever before, if not as numerous, for they have got rid of the most of the inefficient officers as well as soldiers. The “weak kneed” and the faint hearted have gone been going home by the thousands every week all winter. I have been in the office today as usual. After leaving it I went down on to the Ave, droped into Bradys Photograph Gallery which is one of the Institutions of Washington. Genl Sumner of the Army was there and I was introduced to him by my friend the Artist Mulvaney and had some conversation with him. He is not as white haired and bearded as the Pictures represent him, his hair and beard is a fair iron grey. I told him that I found him a much younger looking officer than I expected, which seemed to please him, as he said he the pictures did not do him justice. I spent an hour at Charleys and then was over to Doct Munsons where I staid an hour more.
Grand Lake Landing, Friday, March 6. Cloudy and windy. General Quinby went down on the “Superior” to Providence, returned in the evening. In the afternoon David Evans and myself went down stream on the levee, bareback about three miles, where the engineers were at work digging out the levee. Took a drink in Louisiana and returned to camp with no better impression of the sunny South.
6th. In the morning the colonel called the officers together and stated in tears that he should resign if the thing were not ferreted out. I was in Case’s tent. C. and H. burned their property. Officers feigned a search but found nothing. In the evening officers held a meeting and passed resolutions. Medary received at the cars by democrats.
Friday, 6th—Relieved by K. and F. Raining all day and night. Sent on bread detail with Big Ugly, got back after night, raining.
March 6th, 1863.—It is hard to even think, because I want to see Grandpa so bad. We were going to him in the summer and now I will never see him again. Father says I will see him in that beautiful Heaven, which he loved to talk of but it seems so far away. Grandma has sent me a lock of his lovely snow-white hair, but there is no comfort in that, for it only makes me long the more to put my arms about his neck and kiss the soft thick hair which glistened like silver.
His will has been read and he has left Uncle Kinchen and Aunt Amy in Mother’s care for the remainder of their lives; all their children were given to Mother, so they will not be separated from their family. Father has sent money to pay their way down and Uncle Kinchen is such a good traveler, they will get on all right.
Grandpa was buried in the cemetery at Enfield. He had stated in his will that he must be brought to Florida and buried beside Grandmother in our “God’s Acre,” but when he was dying he told them not to try to take his body back to Florida, the whole country is in such an upset condition on account of the war and he did not know what complications might arise. I wish he could have been brought here so we could take him flowers every day. I know what I can do, I can bear in remembrance the many talks we have had and try to be just what he wanted me to be.
