1864: “Am I The Same Poor Soul…?”

March 3, 1864.

…After they left I sat down to Romola – and I was absorbed in it. How hardened we grow “to war and war’s alarms.” The enemies’ 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 guns boomed from Fort Sumter? Continue reading

1863: “Fine Fellows Going To Kill Or Be Killed”

September 1863

At Kingsville I caught a glimpse of our army. Longstreet’s corps going west. 

God bless the gallant fellows. Not one man intoxicated – not one rude word did I hear. It was a strange sight – miles, apparently, of platform cars – soldiers rolled in their blankets, lying in rows,heads and all covered, fast asleep. In their gray blankets, packed in regular order, they looked like swathed mummies. Continue reading

1862: “We Are Spartans”

July 18, 1862

General Huger sent to inspect ordnance. Sent to Coventry?

Jackson gone into the enemy’s country. Joe Johnston and Wade Hampton to follow.

Think of Rice – Mr. Senator Rice – who sent us the buffalo robes. I see from his place in the Senate – speaks of us as savages who put powder and whiskey in the soliders’ canteens to make them mad with ferocity in the fight. No – never. We admire coolness here – because we lack it. We do not need to be fired by drink to be brave. My classcial lore is small indeed. I faintly remember something of the Spartans who marched to the music of lutes – no drum and fife was needed to fillip their fainting spirits. In that one thing we are Spartans. The powder we cannot spare from one musket. Alas we have so little of it, and we need so much Continue reading