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Eliza Frances Andrews, The war-time journal of a Georgia girl, 1864-1865, Prologue (search)
ore unpardonable offense of applying the terms male and female to objects of their respective genders, has been resisted for fear of altering the spirit of the narrative by too much tampering with the letter. For the same reason certain palpable errors and misstatements, unless of sufficient importance to warrant a note, have been left unchanged — for instance, the absurd classing of B. F. Butler with General Sherman as a degenerate West Pointer, or the confusion between fuit Ilium and ubi Troja fuit that resulted in the misquotation on page 190. For my small Latin, I have no excuse to offer except that I had never been a school teacher then, and could enjoy the bliss of ignorance without a blush. As to the implied reflection on West Point, I am not sure whether I knew any better at the time, or not. Probably I did, as I lived in a well-informed circle, but my excited brain was so occupied at the moment with thoughts of the general depravity of those dreadful Yankees, that there wa
Eliza Frances Andrews, The war-time journal of a Georgia girl, 1864-1865, chapter 5 (search)
ly delightful in conversation, and father says he wishes he would stay a month. Capt. Irwin seems very fond of him, and says there is no man in Virginia more beloved and respected. He is Assistant Secretary of the Treasury or something of the sort, and is wandering about the country with his poor barren exchequer, trying to protect what is left of it, for the payment of Confederate soldiers. He has in charge, also, the assets of some Richmond banks, of which he is, or was, president, dum Troja fuit. He says that in Augusta he met twenty-five of his clerks with ninety-five barrels of papers not worth a pin all put together, which they had brought out of Richmond, while things of real value were left a prey to the enemy. April 30, Sunday We were all standing under the ash tree by the fountain after breakfast, watching the antics of a squirrel up in the branches, when Gen. Elzey and Touch [name by which the general's son, Arnold, a lad of 14, was known among his friends] came
The Daily Dispatch: January 3, 1861., [Electronic resource], Speech of U. S. Senator Benjamin on the Crisis. (search)
Third of January. The gallant fleet of States, which has so long sailed together to the admiration of the world, is, we are told, about to part company forever. Their union is proclaimed to be a thing of the past, and to belong to history alone. "Troja fuit" must be written on the spot on which they stood. It cannot be amiss, then, to call to memory some of the things that they did together, under the eye of Washington, and this day has been sanctified by one of the most glorious of them all. It was on this day, eighty-three years ago, that Washington, having extricated himself the night before from his perilous position in Trenton, made a flank march of twelve miles, fell upon the rear of the British army at Princeton, gained another glorious victory, and completely changed the face of affairs. It was a great exploit, worthy of any commander that ever lived, rivalled only by the march of the Consul Nero, when he left Hannibal in the lurch on the Vulturous, and fell upon
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