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fully situated in a grove just at the entrance to Lovers' Lane. The services were conducted by old Mr. George, who used to come out to the Tallassee plantation, as far back as I can remember, and hold mission services for father's and Mr. Nightingale's negroes, sometimes in Uncle Jacob's cabin, sometimes in the little log chapel on Mr. Nightingale's Silver Lake place. He teaches in the little schoolhouse all the week to support his family — a full baker's dozen-and holds church services on Sundays for the refugees and soldiers of the faith that have stranded here. He has spent his life in mission work, laying the foundation of churches for other men to build on. There is something very touching in the unrewarded labor of this good man, grown gray in the service of his God. The churches he builds up, as soon as they begin to prosper, ask the bishop for another pastor. He wore no surplice, and his threadbare silk gown was, I verily believe, the same that he used to wear in the old p
was virtually over when we left our sister, though we did not know it, and the various raids and forays alluded to in the journal were really nothing but the march of victorious generals to take possession of a conquered country. Communication was so interrupted that we did not hear of the fall of Richmond till the 6th of April, four days after it happened, and no certain news of Lee's surrender reached us till the 20th, eleven days after the event, though we caught vague rumors of it on the 19th. Chunnennuggee Ridge, to which allusion is made in this chapter and the preceding, is a name given to a tall escarpment many miles in length, overlooking the rich prairie lands of South-East Alabama. On top of this bluff the owners of the great cotton plantations in the prairie made their homes, and for some five or six miles north of the town of Union Springs, about midway between Montgomery and Eufaula, the edge of the bluff was lined with a succession of stately mansions surrounded by
April 1st (search for this): chapter 4
ttled their crutches together, and one big fellow standing near me threw up his battered old war hat, and cried out: Bully for you! Give us some more! and then I added: Here's death to the men who wear Federal blue, They are cowardly, cruel, perfidious, untrue, etc. But after all, it looks as if the wretches are going to bring death, or slavery that is worse than death, to us. We may sing and try to put on a brave face, but alas! who can tell what the end of it all is to be? April 1, Tuesday I slept all the morning and was only wakened in the afternoon by Mary Joyner pulling at my feet and telling me to get up for dinner. I like Mary. Her manner is abrupt, but she is generosity itself. Her devotion to the sick and wounded soldiers is beautiful. Often she will go without her dinner and always denies herself any special delicacy that happens to be on the table, in order to take it to one of the hospitals. Almost every mail brings her grateful letters from the sol
April 3rd (search for this): chapter 4
he prairie made their homes, and for some five or six miles north of the town of Union Springs, about midway between Montgomery and Eufaula, the edge of the bluff was lined with a succession of stately mansions surrounded by beautiful parks and gardens, very much as the water front of a fashionable seaside resort is built up to-day. The writer had frequently visited this delightful place with her cousin, Miss Victoria Hoxey (Tolie of the diary), who had a married sister living there. April 3, Monday. Albany, Ga All of us very miserable at the thought of parting. Mrs. Meals goes with us as far as Wooten's, on her way to Gopher Hill, so sister and the children are left alone. Brother Troup has been ordered to Gen. Wofford's command in North Georgia, and this separation adds to her feeling of loneliness, but she and the children will soon join us in Washington, so it won't matter so much. The ride to Albany was very unpleasant, the sun scorching hot, the glare of the sand b
April 4th (search for this): chapter 4
to Albany was very unpleasant, the sun scorching hot, the glare of the sand blinding, and Mrs. Meals with a headache. Mr. George Hull writes that the Georgia R. R. will be open for travel by the last of this month, and so our visits to Cuthbert and Macon will just fill in the interval for Mett and me. We can then go home by way of Atlanta. It is something to think we will be able to go all the way by rail and won't have to undergo that troublesome wagon ride again across the country. April 4, Cuthbert, Ga., Tuesday Up early and at the depot. Jim Chiles accompanied us as far as Smithville. We had to wait five hours there for the train to Cuthbert. The hotel was so uninviting that we stayed in the car, putting down the blinds and making ourselves as comfortable as we could. Capt. Warwick, who is stationed there, was very kind and attentive. He paid us a call in our impromptu parlor, and made some of his hands bring in buckets of water and sprinkle the floor to cool it off
April 5th (search for this): chapter 4
e world is refugeeing, most people who are fortunate enough to possess homes have very heterogeneous households. The village seems to be very gay. We found an invitation awaiting us for to-morrow night and the gentlemen in the house proposed a theater-party for this evening, to see the amateurs, but it is Lent, and I am trying to do better in the way of refraining from worldly amusements and mortifying the flesh, than I did in Montgomery last spring, so we spent the evening at home. April 5, Wednesday Just before daylight we were awakened by a lovely serenade, and I gave myself a sore throat trotting over the house bare-footed, hunting for flowers to throw to the serenaders. Mett and Mary had all that were in the house in their room, and would not give the rest of us any. Their finest bouquet lodged in the boughs of a spreading willow oak near the window, and then we had the laugh on them. The girls were busy all day getting ready for Miss Long's wedding. I might take
April 6th (search for this): chapter 4
the various raids and forays alluded to in the journal were really nothing but the march of victorious generals to take possession of a conquered country. Communication was so interrupted that we did not hear of the fall of Richmond till the 6th of April, four days after it happened, and no certain news of Lee's surrender reached us till the 20th, eleven days after the event, though we caught vague rumors of it on the 19th. Chunnennuggee Ridge, to which allusion is made in this chapter andwards Eufaula, so that puts a stop to our Chunnennuggee trip. I can't say that I am disappointed, for I don't want to turn my face from home any more, but Mett was anxious to make the trip, and I thought it would be mean not to go with her. April 6, Thursday Capt. Greenlaw brought his flute and spent the morning. He is red-headed and ugly, but very musical, and such jolly good company that one can't help liking him. I don't know when I have met a person that seemed so genial and altog
April 7th (search for this): chapter 4
vable, in a brotherly sort of way. .. . I took a long walk through the village with Capt. Greenlaw after dinner, and was charmed with the lovely gardens and beautiful shade trees. On coming home, I heard of the fall of Richmond. Everybody feels very blue, but not disposed to give up as long as we have Lee. Poor Dr. Robertson has been nearly distracted since he heard the news. His wife and five little children are on a farm near Petersburg, and he don't know what is to become of them. April 7, Friday Capt. Greenlaw spent the day here and brought me the biggest bouquet of the biggest red roses I ever saw; I couldn't help laughing when he threw it into my lap. He calls me cousin, because he says we both have such red heads that we ought to be kin. There is something in his easy, good-natured way of laughing and joking about everything that reminds me a good deal of Fred. And he has the sweetest way in the world of carrying flowers about with him, and slipping them into your wo
April 8th (search for this): chapter 4
has gone, and the new capital of the Confederacy will be either Macon, or Athens, Georgia. The war is closing in upon us from all sides. I am afraid there are rougher times ahead than we have ever known yet. I wish I was safe at home. Since Brother Troup has been ordered from Macon our chance of getting a government wagon is gone, and the railroad won't be finished through to Atlanta for a week or ten days yet. If ever I do get back home again, I will stay there till the war is over. April 8, Saturday Cousin Bolling has returned from his visit to Americus. Mary, Lizzie, Mett, and I went to the depot to meet him and hear the news, then took a walk through Lovers' Lane, a beautiful shady road that runs through woods so thick as to make solid walls of green on either side. It is intersected with other roads as white and shady as itself, with all sorts of wild flowers blooming on the ground and climbing over the trees. This is indeed one of the loveliest villages I ever was i
April 9th (search for this): chapter 4
ling and squirming in a perpetual struggle against the vulgar impulse to scratch. Everybody is talking about the gloomy aspect of affairs. Capt. Greenlaw spent the morning as usual, and the more I see of him the better I like him for his bright, cheery disposition. Among those who called in the evening, was a Mr. Renaud, of New Orleans, whom I liked very much. He has that charming Creole accent which would make it a pleasure to listen to him, even if he were not so nice himself. April 9, Sunday I went to worship with a little band of Episcopalians, mostly refugees, who meet every Sunday in a schoolhouse. It is a rough place, with very uncomfortable benches, but beautifully situated in a grove just at the entrance to Lovers' Lane. The services were conducted by old Mr. George, who used to come out to the Tallassee plantation, as far back as I can remember, and hold mission services for father's and Mr. Nightingale's negroes, sometimes in Uncle Jacob's cabin, sometimes
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