Huntsville, Thursday, March 3. A pleasant day. Off duty at 9 A. M. Did not come on till six hours hence according to regulations. A very heavy detail sent foraging with brigade teams, ours being allowed a short rest. Policing in the afternoon. J. M. Hood was to-day appointed orderly sergeant; Corporal Alba Sweet, 6th sergeant, vice Hood promoted; private Malish, corporal, vice Sweet promoted; Sergeant Hauxhurst court-martialed to-day; charges, refusing to obey Sergeant Hood’s orders. The result I have not learned. He is able to defend his case I think, able to prove much that the officers don’t like.
Monday, March 3, 2014
3rd. Spent the morning at home. In evening called upon Fannie Henderson. To my joy a letter from F. came this P. M.
March 3 — A flying report came to camp to-day that the raiders were again advancing on Charlottesville. We hitched up hurriedly on the strength of the report, and were ready with our guns to give them an old Virginia greeting, with shot and shell mixed in it. The report proved to be false, as there were no Yankees in sight or hearing, and we settled down again in the ashes of our old winter quarters.
March 3d.
I have been a little “off my feed” for three or four days past. Not sick—only a little overworked. A patient by the name of Hooper was assigned to my ward on the 15th of last month. His disease was typhoid fever of a virulent type. He was “out of his head” and very violent. He required the constant attention of two strong men. I dared not leave him to the doubtful care of nurses, consequently for twelve days and nights my eyes were seldom off him, or them. No one—not even the Doctor—thought he could live; but God was pleased to spare him “yet a little longer.” The twelfth day he slept, for the first time, and when he awoke, after a few hours of quiet sleep, he awoke to reason—but oh, so weak. His poor, worn-out body scarcely retained the breath of life. Carefully I watched each fluttering pulsation, administering stimulants as required, and by morning felt that he would live. All he needed now was care, and for three days more I watched and waited, until the Doctor pronounced him out of danger.
Then, when I would have slept, I could not. For three nights I hardly slept at all, and I tried so hard.
Yesterday I took plenty of quinine, and had a good night’s rest last night, and awakened this morning much refreshed.
Diary And Memoranda, 1864
March 3rd. Have felt a little indisposed all day; but before dark summoned courage to visit the Grovers’ theatre. The play was “Othello.” I did not get very interested in the piece, doubtless on account of Booth not taking the part of Othello. It was sustained by all the actors.
March 3.—I returned to Newnan some few days ago. I had quite a pleasant time in Mobile; I found it gayer than ever. The excuse is, that there are so many soldiers there away from their homes, and the ladies say they must do what they can to entertain them. Quite a plausible reason!
I noticed that the privates and officers mingled together at the festivities.
At one party which I attended (indeed the only one) the order of things was reversed; the ladies waited on the gentlemen, as they say it is an honor to wait on soldiers. The refreshments consisted of coffee mixed with rye, with sugar and milk, wheat-bread, and butter. These are luxuries now.
While visiting, the whole topic of conversation is, What can be procured to eat? This pervades all classes of society, and has ceased to be a vulgarism. The greatest treat that can be given is a cup of coffee or tea, with milk and sugar.
They have a very nice oil, distilled from pitch, called Confederate, which is a great improvement on the “pine-knot” lights.
I went shopping with a lady, who paid eight dollars per yard for a calico dress, ten for a gingham, twenty for a common delaine; children’s boots fifty dollars; ladies’, seventy-five.
Many of the ladies were dressed in homespun, which makes very pretty street dresses when trimmed, but they are not economical, as they do not wash as well as calico.
Provisions are higher than ever. The most influential men we have, that is, among the non-combatants, have formed themselves into a society called the Supply Association, for the benefit of those who are short of means. They send agents around the country who buy as they can, and the food is retailed by these gentlemen at cost; and I believe besides they see that soldiers’ families who can not buy do not suffer for want of food.
They have what is called a free market; it is supported wholly by donations of money and provisions. Many of the planters send all kinds of vegetables to it.
I made the acquaintance of some members of the Twenty-ninth Alabama Regiment, with whom I was much pleased. I went to a review of the regiment; as it has never been in a battle, it was complete in every way. The men were a contrast with the war-worn veterans that I had been accustomed to see. As it was expected to be soon sent to the front, I could not help feeling sad when looking at the review. “For a field of the dead rushed red on my sight.”[1]
I never will look again on a regiment of soldiers with pleasure.
This regiment is commanded by Colonel Connelly. It was with General Bragg’s army at Pensacola, and when that army went to Mississippi, it was sent on duty to Mobile.
While I was in Mobile, the cry that “the enemy is coming” was raised two or three times. There was a report that an immense army was coming through Florida, another through Mississippi, and another by Pascagoola, and at the same time the fleet was to attack the forts down the bay. For a little while poor Mobile seemed as if it was going to be gobbled up all at once, but the enemy have found a few stumbling-blocks in their way. “All their views have come to naught,” and the Mobilians breathe free again; although I expect only for a little while, as I have no idea but what the enemy will honor it with a visit.
The mayor and General Maury had large bills posted, begging the people to leave, telling them they intended to defend the city at all hazards, but the people paid little heed to them, as the cry of wolf has been raised so often that this time they were determined to wait till he came. Many of them had gone, and, getting tired of waiting, had returned, and were not to be sent off so easily again.
I visited the fortifications, winch seem to be very formidable. The city is all cut up, and many a beautiful garden and tree has been demolished.
I also visited a very fine gun-boat—the Tennessee — said to be one of the largest afloat. Lieutenant Jordan, one of the officers, kindly showed us all over. It is a ram, and has many a dark-looking corner, where the men are to be stowed away in case of a battle. All looked very mysterious. I certainly felt I should not like to be one of the crew. There were a few more gun-boats nearly completed, but we did not go on board of them.
My old friend, Rev. Mr. Miller, is now post chaplain of Mobile. I visited a library which he has for the use of the soldiers.
Since my last visit to Mobile many of her brave sons have been laid low in the dust, and many a once happy home left desolate.
Mrs. Otis’s son, Mr. Bancroft, a member of the Third Alabama Regiment, was severely wounded at the battle of Chancellorville. His fate is still uncertain, as the tent he was in was set on fire by a shell, and many suppose he was burned up. What a terrible fate! How I do pity his poor mother; but her trust is in God.
Mrs. Wilson’s son, Eugene, a member of the Eighth Alabama Regiment, was killed at Gettysburg. I had known him when a little boy. He was a member of the “Mobile Blues,” and, like nearly all of that company, has offered up his young life on the altar of his country. His poor mother could not speak to me, her heart was so full. May God be with and strengthen all such!
On leaving Mobile, my friend, Mr. M., introduced me to his friend, Mr. Labuzan, who kindly offered to escort me as far as Montgomery. He was on his way to the interior of Alabama, in search of a home for his family, having decided to take them from the city. Mr. L. is one of many who have suffered by the war. He has three sons in the army; one, Catesby, was badly wounded at Missionary Ridge; he is now a prisoner, and his father has no idea at this moment that he lives. When his family last heard from him, his life was almost despaired of. I am told, a nobler boy never fought for his country.
On the cars from Montgomery to West Point, I met a very nice lady, Mrs. Davis, from Marion, Alabama. When she left that place she said there was great excitement there, expecting the enemy. She was then on her way to Georgia, where her father lives.
On the cars from West Point I met Lieutenant Sewell, of the Twenty-fourth Alabama Regiment, who had been on furlough to Mobile. He said he thought the times looked very gloomy. I asked him how long he had been in Mobile. He replied, “Two weeks.” I said, “Just long enough to be demoralized, as no one near or in the army ever spoke of gloomy times.” He answered, that was a fact; that the further he got from the army the more demoralized the people were. He then paid the usual compliments to the ladies. I told him of this talk I really had become weary, and I thought they did not deserve all that was said in their praise, and if we were whipped they would be to blame. I also said a man did not deserve the name of man, if he did not fight for his country; nor a woman, the name of woman, if she did not do all in her power to aid the men. Even when a woman does her best, it is a mite compared with what our men have to endure. He had the candor to acquiesce in all I said.
I found very few of my former patients here. Many of the very worst cases of gangrene are cured, and the subjects walking about. Some of the men have been furloughed, and gone home; others, whose homes are in the enemy’s lines, have gone to stay with friends. Mr. Moore, the lad who was wounded through the lungs at the battle of Chickamauga, is still unable to move himself, and he has scarcely ever been heard to murmur. He is a great sufferer, as he has a bad cough. We call him our pet. He is from North Carolina, and his people have suffered much from the enemy.
A number of our nurses and cooks have been sent to the front . I regret this, as they were nearly all good men. We have to go to work now and teach others.
[1] The records of nearly all our regiments have been lost, so that it is almost impossible to get a correct account of our losses. Captain Abernethy, who had command of this gallant regiment at the battle of Franklin, when but a remnant of it remained, told me that it went into that battle with twenty-three officers; after it was over, twenty of them and over two hundred privates lay prostrate on the field.
March 3d.—Betty, the handsome, and Constance, the witty, came; the former too prudish to read Lost and Saved, by Mrs. Norton, after she had heard the plot. Conny was making a bonnet for me. Just as she was leaving the house, her friendly labors over, my husband entered, and quickly ordered his horse. “It is so near dinner,” I began. “But I am going with the President. I am on duty. He goes to inspect the fortifications. The enemy, once more, are within a few miles of Richmond.” Then we prepared a luncheon for him. Constance Cary remained with me.
After she left I sat down to Romola, and I was absorbed in it. How hardened we grow to war and war’s alarms! The enemy’s cannon or our own are thundering in my ears, and I was dreadfully afraid some infatuated and frightened friend would come in to cheer, to comfort, and interrupt me. Am I the same poor soul who fell on her knees and prayed, and wept, and fainted, as the first gun boomed from Fort Sumter? Once more we have repulsed the enemy. But it is humiliating, indeed, that he can come and threaten us at our very gates whenever he so pleases. If a forlorn negro had not led them astray (and they hanged him for it) on Tuesday night, unmolested, they would have walked into Richmond. Surely there is horrid neglect or mismanagement somewhere.
March 3, Thursday. Governor Thomas of Maryland called on me to-day in behalf of Commodore Ringgold, who wants a vote of thanks on the recommendation of the President. He says that he and other Members of Congress — Senators and Representatives — have had an interview with the President, who is ready to send in the recommendation, if I will make it out. Told the Governor that it was all wrong; that I well understood Ringgold’s intrigue; that the movement was contrary to the policy of the Department, was not to be thought of, would be injustice to others; and that it would be better to repeal the whole law than do anything of the kind. I promised him, however, to see the President, and did so.
I called on the President in the afternoon, who said he should be governed entirely by my views in the matter. The subject was therefore soon disposed of. I then brought up the subject of promoting Colonel Hawley. He said the measure was full now, but he hoped to be able to do justice to H. one of these days. I remarked that I had avoided pressing him on the subject of military appointments, but this was one for a meritorious man from my own State, that I had it much at heart, and had repeatedly brought it to his notice, etc., etc. He gave me credit for forbearance beyond others and assured me he should try not to forget this case when there was opportunity. I have no aid from the Members of Congress in this matter, and from some of them I apprehend there is opposition, or something akin to it. I regret that Hawley fails to appreciate Dahlgren and his service, and rightly to comprehend the whole question of naval and military operations at Charleston. But this partisan weakness shall not prevent me from doing him justice.
March 3—Left camp at 8 this morning to intercept General Kilpatrick, who is scouting in our lines. We formed in line of battle, had all the roads guarded, when we found out that he was already on his way to the peninsula, so we returned to camp. Twenty miles to-day.
Thursday, 3d—We got into motion early this morning and marched twenty miles. We bivouacked for the night within twenty-six miles of Vicksburg and not far from our forces at Big Black river bridge. The rebels ceased following us today. The weather and roads were fine for marching.
