Kate Cumming: A Journal of Hospital Life in the Confederate Army of Tennessee.

April 22.—There is much excitement in town. News has just come that there is an armistice, and that we had been recognized by France, England, Spain, and Austria; Lincoln has been assassinated, and Seward badly wounded. I was going down town when I heard great hurrahing: as we had heard that there was another raid coming, I was terribly alarmed, thinking it was the enemy coming in triumph, but was informed that it was a car filled with our men and Federals hurrying up to Atlanta, with a flag of truce, to let all know about the armistice. None of our people believe any of the rumors, thinking them as mythical as the surrender of General Lee’s army. They look upon it as a plot to deceive the people. Many think that Governor Brown has sold the state. There is evidently a crisis in our affairs.

April 20.— The enemy are gone. I have no idea but that they will be back soon. Mrs. F. and myself lay awake all night, expecting to hear them returning. They have done little or no damage to the place. They burned a large warehouse, filled with private and government stores, and gave the contents to the negroes and poor people. They fired the turning-table, which is still burning; they were in the act of setting fire to the ticket office, when Mrs. Rawlings implored the commanding officer not to do so, as her house would be burned too. He told her, if it would benefit the United States Government ten thousand dollars, and destroy ten cents worth of private property, it should not be burned. So much goodness looks suspicious. They beat and knocked down some of the negroes, and told the people they were the worst behaved negroes they had met anywhere.

One of the stories afloat is, that they had no idea of coming here; but the mayor and some of the citizens met them some miles from town, and offered to surrender the city if they would spare private property. There were not more than one hundred. They were a detachment from the main body, who have gone on to capture Macon. I am told that the captain boasted that, last year, when Sherman went through the eastern portion of this state, he, along with many others, had come to Griffin, dressed in Confederate uniform, calling themselves Wheeler’s men. They then broke open stores and took out what they pleased. They said they had often done so. This will, likely, account for the bad repute of Wheeler’s men.

April 19.—The enemy did not come last night; but I expect they will honor us to-day. We are ready to receive them. Dr. Bemiss has gone to Atlanta. I could scarcely bid him good-by; it seems so sad to think of a man like him running from such wretches.

Mrs. F. has tried her best to frighten me; but the more terrible her stories, the stronger my nerves become. This I can not account for. I opened a prayer-book, and my eye fell on the twenty-seventh psalm: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear,” etc. I read it aloud, and from it we both gained strength. I do not think it was accident made me turn to those appropriate and comforting words — however some may laugh and say so. My faith is strong in the belief that there is an unseen hand directing all our ways.

Dr. Horton called this morning with a young lady, Miss Bailey, who requested Mrs. F. and myself to go and stay with her, as she was in a large house, and no one with her but negroes. If she left it, it would be certain to be destroyed by the enemy. Neither of us could go. I felt very sorry for her, as she can get no one in the place to go with her. All are remaining at home to take care of their property. Her parents are on a visit to South-west Georgia; and so, like many other families, they are separated.

Night.—The enemy marched in about 5 P. M. I have just been on the gallery, watching the burning of the warehouse, and the sad work of destruction is still going on. We hear the sound of axes, and suppose they are tearing up the railroad track. I thank the Giver of all good that I have been enabled to look calmly on the destruction without one feeling of revenge. I gazed up at the heavy columns of smoke ascending to heaven as if pleading in our behalf; I felt that it was incense rising from a sacrifice, and ascended with the prayers of the saints, which I knew had been offered up on every altar from the Potomac to the Rio Grande in behalf of our down-trodden and desolated land—and that God in his own good time would avenge our wrongs.

One of the enemy rode coolly through the place with his rifle in front of his saddle. I could not but admire his daring, for he was at least a quarter of a mile away from his band, and if any of our men had felt disposed, they might have made way with him, and his comrades never have known what became of him. I wonder if that would be called murder or self-defense? He came hero to kill and rob, and all have a right to defend themselves and property as best they can. This man called at the back door of a house near by, and asked the negro servant for something to eat, which was given him. After awhile an officer galloped past us and rode up to the college, where Dr. de Yampert and Dr. Burks sat, like stoics, ready to receive their distinguished visitor. Dr. de Y. rose on his approach, and conversed with him awhile. He then rode off, looking behind every now and again, as if expecting a stray bullet from some concealed musket.

Mrs. F. and I wondered what he had said to Dr. de Y. We made up our minds he had come to order the sick away, as he meant to fire the building; or, perhaps, with the pleasing information that Dr. de Y. and all the rest of the men were prisoners. We were left to conjecture, for Dr. de Y. did not have the least pity upon us. He certainly knew that we had inherited at least a little of mother Eve’s frailty.

I went over to the hospital to view the fire from the upper gallery. I asked Dr. de Y. if they were going to burn the building; if so, our house would not escape, and we wished to move our clothes. Ho said he did not know what the enemy intended doing, but advised us not to do any thing, it being too late, as our doing so would attract attention.

This evening Dr. B. called, and told us that the Federal officer merely asked how many patients we had, and passed the compliments of the day. I know they were reciprocated.

April 18.—This afternoon I went to the citizens’ graveyard, in company with Mrs. and Captain Hicks. I lost a very important article— my vail—a serious loss, as I have no idea where I am to get another. I was delighted with the graveyard. Every thing about it was in the greatest order, and it was a perfect flower garden. A few soldiers were buried in it. I saw the graves of five or six colonels side by side; I think they were all Tennesseeans. The soldiers’ graveyard is a little ways from the citizens’; I visited it a few days ago. The ladies of the place have displayed a great deal of taste on it; each grave was neatly trimmed with shells, stones, and flowers. I counted nearly five hundred graves; they were principally those of men who had been wounded at the battles near Atlanta.

Georgia has a greater variety and more beautiful roses than I have ever seen; and here they seem to be more luxurious and fragrant than anywhere else. But there is a great lack of shade-trees; I tried the other day to get some cedar to dress our wards, but failed. How often I think of the grand old woods of Tennessee and North Georgia.

On reaching home we found great excitement in expectation of the enemy. We packed up as usual. I was asked to go to two or three places, but Mrs. F. and myself have concluded that we had better remain where we are. Captain Hicks has taken his wife to a relative, five miles in the country, and walked the distance.

Dr. Bemiss is here, having rode all the way from Columbus on horseback. He is a good deal worried about his books, as they were on the Macon train, which it is said the enemy have burned. He is very low-spirited, and says he feels like the man who was chased by a snake, who, after running till he was exhausted, laid down to let the snake do its worst, and found he had been running from a piece of rope hung to the tail of his coat.

Columbus is now in the hands of the enemy. After capturing Montgomery, they marched on to Columbus. Dr. B. says the militia fought manfully in its defense; they had at least ten to one to contend with.

He describes the scenes along the road as distressing, but at the same time ludicrous. There was a perfect panic at the cry that “the Yankees are coming!” At one place the women and children were running through the streets like people deranged, and men, with mules and wagons, driving in every direction. At that time the enemy was not within miles of the place.

Dr. Stout has gone to North Carolina, and Dr. B. intends following in the morning. He advises us to keep quiet, as, from all he can learn, the enemy are not hurting private property. We are to make believe that our house is a private one, although our rooms are filled with government property. All the valuables are committed to our care, and we are to be very busy quilting if the enemy should honor us with a visit.

Nearly all the men have taken to the woods. Dr. de Yampert is at his post, although we have begged him to leave; he says it is his duty to remain. Dr. Burks says he has run all he intends to, and, like the man with the snake, has made up his mind to let them come on and do their worst. Our two barrels of whisky have been taken to the woods.

Well, we are all ready for the enemy. Mrs. F. knows more about them than I do, and is not quite as calm. I see no way of escape, and am making the best of it. I am thinking it is at such times that we need all our coolness and caution. I will do what I can, and leave the rest to God. He has protected me thus far, why should I doubt him now?

April 17.—Mr. Moore came in to-day and told us very calmly that Lee and his whole army were captured. I was mute with astonishment, and looked at Mr. M., thinking I had seen our people take disasters coolly, but had never seen any thing to equal his coolness in telling of such a terrible one. After awhile he laughed, and said he had frightened us enough; that such news had come by a lady from Chattanooga; she had seen it in the northern papers. He said it was one of the tales invented by the enemy to dismay us, but we were not to be so easily frightened.

After Mr. M. had left us, I commenced thinking over the news, and concluded that it probably might be true. I had just read an account of the last three days’ fighting around Petersburg, and it had filled me with dismay. How our men ever withstood such a host is a perfect miracle. They were behind breastworks, but the enemy came on them eight deep, and as fast as one line was mowed down another took its place. It is said that in these three days at least sixty thousand of the enemy were killed; and that our loss was nothing in comparison, but God knows it was enough. General Lee did not have fifty thousand in his army, and the enemy at least two hundred and fifty thousand. It seems like downright murder attempting to oppose such a force. O, how terrible is this cruel, cruel war! When will it cease?

When I saw Mr. M. again, I told him I had made up my mind to try and think that our late disaster might possibly be true. Perhaps General Lee had been overwhelmed by numbers, and compelled to surrender with his handful of men. We seem to have forgotten that he is mortal, and liable to failures like all others.

Mr. M. would not listen to me, and said that such a thing was a moral impossibility. We can hear nothing reliable. It seems as if we were shut out from the whole world.

This evening we went to the Methodist Church; a chaplain, Rev. Dr. Baird, a Presbyterian, preached. Quite a number of children were admitted on probation, and some were baptized. The sight was quite an interesting one.

Easter Sunday, April 16.—A most beautiful day—one that speaks of peace and good will toward men. On my way to church a feeling of sadness came over me, when I remembered the sunny Easter Sundays I had spent with many now gone forever. The little church, I was glad to see, had been all nicely whitewashed, and thoroughly cleaned, and a beautiful bouquet of flowers was on the communion table — an emblem of the resurrection. The church was crowded, and I noticed that Mr. Thomas did not dismiss the congregation before communion, as is common with us, but went on with the communion service as the Methodists do. I felt like thanking the singers for the good music. It took me right back home, as the tunes were all familiar ones. They sang the sixty-ninth Easter hymn, one I had listened to many a time on that day, and one which my father sung, when a boy, in “auld Scotia.”

Mr. Thomas’s text was, “I am Alpha and Omega,” and an excellent sermon he preached from it. He is an able logician, and a concise and fluent speaker. He is a native of Wales, but was raised in Georgia. For many years he was a chaplain in the United States navy. When the war broke out he joined our army. Lately he has been living here on his farm, and I have been told that General Wheeler’s commissary took every grain of corn which he had, leaving him and his family starving. He receives little or nothing for his services, and has to earn his living by manual labor.

Mrs. Fyffe and myself spend an hour or two every evening trying to teach our negro women to read. I have almost given up in despair of their ever learning. We teach them their A B C’s, and think, well, they know that much; but the next time it is all forgotten.

Mrs. Newsom had been teaching her woman some time before she came here, but we find her the dullest of all. I think the African is capable of learning but very little; many may learn to read and write, but I feel confident, as a rule, they will not go much further. I have taught them before, and find that in learning hymns and prayers orally they do pretty well.

I have just received a letter from Mrs. N., who is in Athens, Georgia. She says that some members of congress had just passed through Covington on their way to Atlanta. They reported that Richmond had been given up in a hurry, and that the public archives and other valuables were left. The congressmen were still hopeful of our success, as is also Mrs. N.

It is reported that Atlanta or Macon is to be the seat of government, but I can not see how that can be, as we have no army in either place, and the enemy is now all around us, and our railroads torn up in every direction. All this puzzles me much that I intend to give over thinking about it, and await the issue.

A day or two ago word was brought that our hospitals were to make another exodus; they are to go to North Carolina. I dislike leaving this nice place, but shall be glad to get near the army. But I scarcely think they will let us ladies go, as at least for a hundred miles of the road every thing will have to be moved on teams.

Good Friday, April 14.—A gloomy day. I went to church in the morning, and listened to one of the finest sermons I ever heard. The text was “and the people stood beholding.” The vocal music was excellent; the voices were very sweet, and the contralto is one of the finest I ever listened to. Captain Hicks and his wife went with me, and were more charmed than ever with the music.

April 11.—We can hear little or nothing from Mobile, but I have no idea that our people will try to hold it, now that Selma has gone. I suppose by this time our army has left it. We have evidently had some hard fighting at Spanish Fort. On looking over the list of killed and wounded in a Macon paper, among the killed the first name I saw was a son of Mrs. Mitchell of this place. He is the second or third she has lost in this war; she has my heartfelt sympathy.

Mrs. N. and her sister have left to-day. They expect to be able to go to North Carolina.

Sunday, April 10.—Mrs. Newsom’s sister is here, and we had a hearty laugh at dinner, as I told them it was an extra one. Our corn-bread had in it lard, soda, and a whole egg. Mrs. Newsom told us of a friend of hers, now living in Marietta, who could scarcely get enough of corn meal for herself and children.