Saturday, 9th–It is cool and quite pleasant. I stayed at home all day and did some writing (brought my army diary up to date). The farmers are still lying by waiting for the weather and the ground to get fit for seeding. There is no news of any importance from the army.

April 9th. Still waiting at the Union Relief Rooms for transportation to our camp. Rain —- cold — disagreeable weather. Cannot leave the place for we don’t know just when a train will be ready for us. Late this P. M. we go on board train for Virginia.

(excerpt)

        April 9. . . . The sham battle of General Hardee’s Corps took place on Thursday, and was witnessed by a large number of ladies from all parts of the State. There was a party of them at Gen. Hood’s for several days and the evening after the battle we had a dance at Hd. Qurs. to which was gathered ‘the beauty and the chivalry.’ It was a decided success and was almost fashionably crowded. I indulged slightly in the galop and deuxtemps and wish L. could have seen me. There are to be some tableaux a few miles below here at a country house on the railroad Monday evening, to which the General and his staff are invited. I expect there will be a good deal of gaiety in Dalton, (that is, for the army) until the war begins, which from all appearance is as far off as ever. Tell Papa that the army is very much ‘down on’ Congress for the ration bill and ask him to be sure and have it remedied as soon as the session begins. I have heard several plans proposed by officers for inviting one or two members of Congress now with the army to a ‘one ration a day dinner.’ Something of this sort, for instance: The entertainer would be very generous and have the whole day’s ration served for dinner. He would divide the pound and a quarter of meal, the quarter of a pound of hominy and the third of a pound of bacon into three parts and give his guest one, take one himself and set one aside for his servant. However, we all live in hope of the better time coming.”

(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)

APRIL 9th.—Rained all day.

Lieut. Tyler, grandson of President Tyler, is here on furlough, which expires to-morrow. His father (the major), whom he has not seen for two years, he learns, will be in the city day after tomorrow; and to-day he sought admittance to Mr. Secretary Seddon to obtain a prolongation of his furlough, so as to enable him to remain two days and see his parent. But Mr. Kean refused him admittance, and referred him to the Adjutant-General, who was sick and absent; and thus “red tape” exhibits its insensibility to the dictates of humanity, even when no advantage is gained by it. Robert Tyler subsequently addressed a note to Mr. K., the purport of which I did not inquire.

We have no war news—indeed, no newspapers to-day. The wet weather, however, may be in our favor, as it will give us time to concentrate in Virginia. Better give up all the cities South, than lose Richmond. As long as we hold Richmond and Virginia, the “head and heart” of the “rebellion,” we shall not only be between the enemy (south of us) and their own country, but within reach of it.

April 9th, 1864.—Today I have on railroad stockings and slippers. Guess what these slippers are made of? Whenever I go to uncle Richard’s I see an old black uncle, hard at work plaiting shucks and weaving the plaits together into door mats. It seemed to me a lighter braid might be sewed into something resembling shoes, so I picked out the softest shucks and soon had enough to make one slipper. So pleased was I that I soon had a pair of shoes ready to wear. They are a little rough so I have pasted inside a lining of velvet. Everybody laughed, but I feel quite proud.

Susan Bradford is 18 years old when this entry was made.

Friday, 8th–Another wet day and I stayed at home all day. It is so lonesome that I almost wish I was back in the army; although if I did not have to go back, I could enjoy myself a great deal better. May God hasten the day when this cruel war will be fought to a close, so that the soldiers may return to their homes and friends. What a cruel thing this war is! Think of the thousands of our brave men suffering in the hospitals and in the camps, and many being killed on the battlefield. And yet, think of the everlasting Copperheads in the North, how they sympathize with the South! Such men as they are not fit to be compared with the negroes of the South! I would like to see such men as they are be made to go down there and fight for the South, and be compelled to live on mule beef at that!

April 8th. Arrived at midnight last night. Marched to the Union Relief Rooms. Here we wait for transportation to Harper’s Ferry. Wishing we were in our camp.

April, Friday 8, 1864

A bright and beautiful day, yet a lonely one, our Rebel friends left us—and my poor Beulah was taken away again. Helen & Nannie went over to Mr. Harbut’s, and took her to Willie Duke. Capt. Barber, Capt. Farrell, Mr. Kirk, Eddie and Elb went over on the Plank Road nearly to Nonconnah, did not see any Yanks, heard of a squad going into Memphis just before them, they came back just before dinner, did not have time to wait, as Laura was just done churning, they drank heartily of Buttermilk. I made them each a nice julep, they went off in fine spirits, yet I can never answer for one sad heart they left behind. I went to sleep after dinner, and slept until very late. Poor Mr. Noe, just two years today since he was wounded—I decked his grave with flowers, and his suffering during the eleven weeks I nursed him, after his wound, until the time of his death, were ever present in my mind. Father and I sat in the Parlor a short time after supper. Laura and Bettie worried me a great deal with their lesson. Poor Beulah, I miss her so much—will my troubles never cease, hope is my Talisman—every dark cloud hath it’s silvery lining—

April 8th, 1864.—I am at home again and father and mother say they have missed me. The hospital patients are better and High Private Watson is begging to go back to his uncle. Father has written to him and described the child’s condition, asking if he might send him to his relatives in Macon? No answer has come and the little fellow is too feeble to be allowed to go to camp, so Father is going to send him to Macon with Mr. Higgins, (who was wounded in the shoulder and is about well now). He has a short furlough to visit his home in Griffin and will take charge of him.

There are a number of soldiers sick with some kind of fever, which will fill the places these two leave vacant.

Brother Junius writes that he liked his knit undershirts and drawers so well that he wants me to knit him some of cotton. I will get to work on them right away. He writes that the army is almost constantly on the move and the soldiers have hopes of defeating Grant, in this Spring campaign and ending the war. I have taken care of all the letters he has written me; he writes alternately to Mattie and to me. Father says his letters would make a good history of the army of Northern Virginia. Last winter he wrote such entertaining accounts of the “night school” the soldiers had, not the primary grades either, but a classical school with oratorical efforts interspersed.

I have little time now for study, I still keep on with some studies and recite to Father, when he has time to hear me, or we talk it over when we are out in the woods collecting medicinal herbs. What I am most interested in at present is Upham’s Mental Philosophy. I do not teach Frances now, she was so bad that Mother sent her to stay at the Horse-shoe with Aunt Pendar. She does not work in the field but takes lessons in sewing from Mrs. Manning.

Susan Bradford is 18 years old when this entry was made.

APRIL 8th.—Bright and warm—really a fine spring day. It is the day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer, and all the offices are closed. May God put it into the hearts of the extortioners to relent, and abolish, for a season, the insatiable greed for gain! I paid $25 for a half cord of wood to-day, new currency. I fear a nation of extortioners are unworthy of independence, and that we must be chastened and purified before success will be vouchsafed us.

What enormous appetites we have now, and how little illness, since food has become so high in price! I cannot afford to have more than an ounce of meat daily for each member of my family of six; and to day Custis’s parrot, which has accompanied the family in all their flights, and, it seems, will never die, stole the cook’s ounce of fat meat and gobbled it up before it could be taken from him. He is permitted to set at one corner of the table, and has lately acquired fondness for meat. The old cat goes staggering about from debility, although Fannie often gives him her share. We see neither rats nor mice about the premises now. This is famine. Even the pigeons watch the crusts in the hands of the children, and follow them in the yard. And, still, there are no beggars.

The plum-tree in my neighbor’s garden is in blossom to-day, and I see a few blossoms on our cherry-trees. I have set out some 130 early York cabbage-plants—very small; and to-day planted lima and snap beans. I hope we shall have no more cold weather, for garden seed, if those planted failed to come up, would cost more than the crops in ordinary times.

April, Saturday 9, 1864

What strange weather. cold, bitter cold & raining. Laura awakened me with the news that Lieut. Buchanon of 2 Mo. Cav. with two of his men were here. I hastened to dress, as I expected they would have some news—they came here last night about 6 o’clock to see if we could tell them anything about the Pickets. I dressed and went in the Parlor, he did not stay very long, had twenty men with him on an expedition to capture Cav Pickets—I regreted to learn from him this morning they had failed—they took french leave, we thought we heard the Yanks coming, they did not get this far, rob’d poor old Mr. Isbell of all his meat, and a great deal of corn,—fourteen in the squad, how I wish those Mo’s could have known it in time to have captured them. Oh! mercy, I am so lonely—have not sewed much today, sat in the Parlor with Father a little while after tea. Poor Father, his heart is as sad as my own. L. & B. did not say a lesson tonight. Laura, Tip and I all alone, poor, poor Beulah—I sat up very late, alone, ah! the hearts echo of that simple word.

7th. Thursday. Letters from home yesterday. Read the “Life of Capt. Hurley Vicars” in the morning. Tom and Thede went to town to see Dan. P. M. went out to see companies drill. Would like to drill right well. Dreamed of Fannie last night.

Thursday, 7th–It rained all day, and I remained at home. As the boys are all down with the measles, I am helping father with the farm work between showers.

April 7th. Arrived in New York early this morning. Crossed over to Jersey City by ferry-boat. Soon on board train, bound for Philadelphia. Making good time, much better than when home-bound. On arrival had another good dinner at the Cooper Shop, after which we again boarded train for Baltimore. Everything going well, making good time. Nothing important has taken place.

April, Thursday 7, 1864

I feel dull and stupid this morning—We have had a happy day, although the Yankees are still down the road.

Tate and Nannie went to the Pickets this morning, were turned back, the lines closed. Capt. Barber & Mr. Kirk cannot get their things. I had not the heart to see them disapointed , so rob’d old Mr. McMahon of 2d. Mo. Mr. Kirk took his Boots, Capt. Barber his uniform. I will get him more through the lines before he comes for them. I beat Capt. Farrell two games of Chess tonight, Father let us sit up just as late as we wanted to, and we had a delightful evening. Nannie &c very buisy sewing all day. Nannie & I made two shirts for a Kentucky’n who is so far from home, and no one to take an interest in his need. I sent him a pair of Pants too—

Joanna, Helen, & Tate made Eddie two—oh! I would give anything if I had it in my power to give them everything they need.

My poor Beulah is fast asleep at my feet, tomorrow I must give her up again, thank heavens Father is not going to kill her. All my little household all quiet in slumber.

APRIL 7th.—A bright spring day.

We look for startling news from the Rappahannock in a few days. Longstreet will be there.

Gen. Lee writes that the fortifications around Richmond ought to be pushed to completion: 2000 negroes are still at work on them.

April 7th, 1864.—Today I have no shoes to put on. All my life I have never wanted to go bare-footed, as most Southern children do. The very touch of my naked foot to the bare ground made me shiver. Lulu my Mammy, scolds me about this—even yet she claims the privilege of taking me to task when she thinks I need it.

“Look here, chile,” she says, “don’t you know you is made outen the dus’ er de earth? Don’t you understand dat when you is dead you is gwine back ter dat dus’?”

“Yes, Lulu,” I answer meekly.

“Well, den, what is you so foolish fur? Better folks dan you is gone bare-footed.”

I listen to all she has to say but a thought has come to me and I have no time to argue the point. Until the shoes for the army are finished, Mr. McDearnmid will not have time to make any shoes for any one else, this is right, for our dear soldiers must come first in everything, but I will stop writing now and get to work.

Susan Bradford is 18 years old when this entry was made.

6th. Issued clothing to the companies. Short on several articles. Had Thede detailed. Barber commenced cooking.

Wednesday, 6th–I went to Tipton to attend the celebration of the 6th of April, the day on which two years ago we fought the battle of Shiloh. I went with a team, taking a load of the young people of the community with me. The roads were awfully muddy and once we stuck in the mud. The citizens gave a dinner in honor of the veterans of Company E, and though I cannot brag on the dinner, there were a great many present. Although we had a muddy time of it, yet all seemed to enjoy themselves. At a meeting in the court house in the afternoon, Major Foster of the Eleventh Iowa delivered a speech before a large audience.

April 6th. Soon after noon the regiment formed in line for parade through some of the principal streets. Received a great reception all along the line of march. After the parade marched on board the steamer City of Norwich, which soon got under way and moved slowly down the river. With cheers and waving of handkerchiefs we again said goodbye to home and friends. Sadness came over the men as we looked back on the scene, the crowds on the dock and the city. How we did wish the war was over. We were in for three years, or during the war, and are bound to stick until the end comes and peace reigns throughout our land. All is quiet on board the boat. Hunting for some place to lie down for sleep.

April, Wednesday 6, 1864

Laura awakened me this morning with the news that Beulah was at my door—oh! it seems there is always something to trouble me. Father allowed her to be chained, and so far has not killed her. We were very much surprised this morning by the arrival of five of Forrest’s men—Eddie & Elb leading the advance, while Capt. Jim Barber, Capt. Farrell & Mr. John Kirk brought up the rear—oh! I was so happy, we have spent a delightful day, have taken it time about standing Picket, with the horses hid in the woods—Geo. Anderson came running up, had just had a nice race with the Yankees—in a little while Joanna & Nannie came from town with the news the Yanks were camping on Horn Lake creek tonight, having heard Forrest had a good many of his men in here on leave—they will have to be right smart if they get our five, with the assistance of Edmondson’s battery for Pickets—We all sat up very late, I left them in the Parlor—tis so much happiness to see so many of our Rebel friends—oh! I am happy, yet miserable, my heart is never free from pain, have mercy upon me, oh! my savior, guide and give me happiness—

APRIL 6th.—At mid-day it cleared off; wind still northwest, and cool.

Beans (white) were held to-day at $5 per quart! and other articles of food in proportion. How we are to live is the anxious question. At auction old sheets brought $25 a piece, and there seemed to be an advance on everything, instead of a decline as was expected. The speculators and extortioners seem to act in concert, and the government appears to be no match for them. It is not the scarcity of food which causes the high prices, for wood and coal sell as high as other things, and they are no scarcer than at any former period. But it is an insatiable thirst for gain, which I fear the Almighty Justicer will rebuke in some signal manner, perhaps in the emancipation of the slaves, and then the loss will be greater than all the gains reaped from the heart’s blood of our brave soldiers and the tears of the widow and orphan And government still neglects the wives and children of the soldiers,—a fearful risk!

But, alas! how are our brave men faring in the hands of the demon fanatics in the United States? It is said they are dying like sheep.

April 6th, 1864.—There was a concert last night at the Capitol for the benefit of the Martha Reid Hospital, in Richmond. Local talent, assisted by Quincy and Monticello, furnished the music. Sister Mart was one of the star performers and there were a score of others. Pretty music they made and a pretty picture, too, as they all came forward to the footlights and bowed, when the curtain first rose. As one of the audience I had a good opportunity to judge.

Several gentlemen with fine voices offered their services and we had very fine music, both vocal and instrumental. They sang operatic selections; they sang soft, plaintive Confederate songs; they sang the world-old ballads that everybody loves and they sang patriotic songs and wound up with Dixie, sung by the entire assembly and followed by cheers so heartfelt as almost to shake the foundations of Florida’s Capitol.

Quite a large sum was realized and many of the gentlemen present added hundreds of dollars to the original amount. The hospitals will need all we can send them, for every day brings us fresh news of skirmishing and often of battles. We are so far off from the seat of war here that it is hard to remember all the time how perfectly terrible it is.

Susan Bradford is 18 years old when this entry was made.

5th. Burge and Tom went to town. Found the teams and got the rest of the clothing. Still unpleasant and chilly. Boys all catching cold.