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.
