March 14th [1863]. For the last few days the Federal soldiers have been arresting all the negroes seen in the streets without passes (given out at the Mayor’s office, Mayor Miller, formerly on General Shepley’s staff, and with whom Mrs. Norton has the written bet about the fall of Port Hudson). General, or Governor, Shepley was standing on his (Mrs. Brown’s) steps as Mrs. Norton passed. She stopped and chatted as usual; asked if Port Hudson “is taken yet.” “I am to drink some of that champagne,” said he. “You must take it at my house,” said she, “for I will win it—you will never win it; you will never take Port Hudson.” The General looked very pale; I expect he thinks so, too. The wife of a Yankee who is lodged in a “captured house” at the corner of our square, had a letter from her husband a few days ago. He is at Baton Rouge, and is to take part in the coming battle. “It will be a terrible fight,” he writes. Two weeks ago she told Mrs. Norton, out of mere bravado and to frighten her, that the Federals had surrounded both Vicksburg and Port Hudson and that both places were in Federal power. She has held levees for the negroes, and has always managed to say something disagreeable about our defeats somewhere or other, or that Butler would soon be back, or something of that sort, whenever we passed her door. But a great anxiety has taken possession of her; she has “no one but her husband,” she says, and indeed we feel sorry for the poor thing. Should Port Hudson fall she will say all sorts of things as we pass, I know, but she is a poor, common creature and is only to be pitied. I hope her husband will be spared her; also that as many of the soldiers as possible will desert to us as have promised to do so. It took three regiments to force off one to go to this Port Hudson affair. We “Rebels” have been making laughing calculations and trying to work out political problems by the rule of three, since this event. Specimens: “If it takes three regiments to move one to the scene of action, how many will it take to move out Banks’ whole army?” “How many will it take to make them fight?” and so forth.
Just called out to see Mrs. Wilkinson—not the paroled one—she tells me that Mrs. Bowen, the wife of a Yankee Colonel, let slip in her converse that three Connecticut regiments mutinied and had to be sent home—officers and men. The rule of three still at work. General Sherman asked Kate Wilkinson why she was so anxious to go over the lines. “Oh, General, I am so tired here, and I do so long for some fresh Confederate air.” The General smiled and said, “Well, stay, and maybe you will have some good Confederate air here soon before long.” We wonder what he meant by that. General Sherman has advised Mrs. Wilkinson not to go yet as there will be danger in the transfer. “Wait,” said he smilingly, “and perhaps we will send you all the way to Vicksburg.” “I have heard something of going that way,” returned Mrs. Wilkinson, “but under our own flag.” The “Rebel” ram Missouri has run the gauntlet out of the Yazoo where she was built, and is safe at Vicksburg. Farragut and Banks are both at Baton Rouge. Word has been received here, it is said, that fighting has commenced at Port Hudson. The few Federals who are left here keep up much journeying to and fro. They are riding furiously up and down the street and the jingling of their swords is sounding in our ears all day long as they pass our door. I can not say that their step is martial, or in the cavalier style. They ride, indeed, infamously in two ways—in the first place they have stolen every horse in town, even ladies’ carriage horses and those from doctors’ buggies; in the next, they sit on them in the most awkward style, bumping up and down, laboring, apparently, more than the horses. They sit back pompously, and no doubt think that we admire them wonderfully. The Indianola, which we captured from the Federals, was reported lost. Indeed, an “extra” informed us that a strange vessel went steaming past the batteries at Vicksburg while our people were raising the Indianola (which had been sunk in the capture), whereupon our Confederate boats took alarm and destroyed the half raised vessel. I thought it queer that two Confederate steamers would run from one Yankee craft, and now we hear that the whole thing was a ruse, and that the Indianola is not only raised, but in good fighting order, having lost in the submerging but two guns.
“We are getting quite a navy—all captured; not one had we with which to begin. When the Queen of the West passed Vicksburg, she ruled, indeed, like a queen over the world of waters, which lie between Port Hudson and Vicksburg, thus locking up our Texas and Red River trade, cutting off our army supplies. The Federals were jubilant over her passing, but she soon fell after a short and inglorious career, and a still more inglorious struggle. She was destroyed by the Red River batteries and deserted by her officers. She floats a new, and I hope to high Heaven, what is to ever be a worthier flag, and her first exploit under it, was to make another Federal bulwark succumb. These iron monsters which were soon to make an end of “the rebellion” are fast falling into our hands, and besides, we have some trusty ones of our own building. We Confederate women are forever counting them in our hearts and on our fingers. They are to open the prison doors of New Orleans. We have three building up the Yazoo; one, the Missouri, has run the gauntlet, and we have seven building at Mobile. In two months we can take this city back. Mrs. Norton is reading out loud—she sees badly—stumbles, I cannot make out what she means, or what I mean myself. I hope my Edith, when she reads this, will take into consideration her auntie’s trials and never feel tempted to scrawl out such a production herself.
