APRIL 12th.—Cloudy—rained in the afternoon.

This is the anniversary of the first gun of the war, fired at FortSumter.

It is still said and believed that Gen. Lee will take the initiative, and attack Grant. The following shows that we have had another success :

“MOBILE, April 11th, 1864.

“To GEN. S. COOPER, A. & I. GENERAL.
……………“The following report was received at Baton Rouge, on the 3d inst., from the Surgeon-General of Banks’s army: We met the enemy near Shreveport. Union force repulsed with great loss. How many can you accommodate in hospitals at Baton Rouge? Steamer Essex, or Benton, destroyed by torpedoes in Red River, and a transport captured by Confederates.
……………“Farragut reported preparing to attack Mobile. Six monitors coming to him. The garrisons of New Orleans and Baton Rouge were very much reduced for the purpose of increasing Banks’s forces.
……………………………………………..“D. H. MAURY, Major-General Commanding.”

April, Tuesday 12, 1864

Mr. Jim Rogers arrived from Texas today, he and Mr. Farrer came over, Col. Perkins, Jimmie Greer and Col. Overton spent the day. Capt. Bissel was here, left two Pistols for me to take care of until he came back the last of the week. I went with Col. Overton over to Mr. Bray’s, he took me to protect him from the Yankees, we had a terible trip, he went on down to Col. Perkins, we heard there was a Yankee Negro Soldier dead on Day’s Creek, so Bettie, Kate, Robert and Mary & myself started in search. We found him, and it was an awful sight, he was in the Water in full uniform, his napsack on the bank of the creek, oh! I would give anything if I had not seen it. I have not done any sewing, house full of Company all day. I received a letter from Maj. Price and Mrs. Hudson, one to forward from Dixie, two from Memphis, one for Mr. Sam Wilson, one from Mo. to be forwarded to a Soldier to Mo. Brigade—No later news from Forrest, the Yanks in Memphis are frightened to death, think he is coming there. Miss Em has not come, I was so disapointed. Tate and Nannie got home. Bettie and Laura had a very good lesson—

Monday, 11th–It was rainy all day, but I went to farming this morning for the first time for nearly three years. As the boys are all sick and as it is impossible for father to hire help even for a few days, I made up my mind that it was my duty to help father to get his seeding done. I started in drilling wheat, but after a while I had to stop on account of the rain.

APRIL 11th.—Rained all night, but clear most of the day.

There are rumors of Burnside landing troops on the Peninsula; also of preparations for movements on the Rappahannock—by which side is uncertain. It is said troops are coming from Mississippi, Lieut.-Gen. (Bishop) Polk’s command.

The FAMINE is still advancing, and his gaunt proportions loom up daily, as he approaches with gigantic strides. The rich speculators, however, and the officers of influence stationed here, who have secured the favor of the Express Company, get enough to eat. Potatoes sell at $1 per quart; chickens, $35 per pair; turnip greens, $1 per peck! An ounce of meat, daily, is the allowance to each member of my family, the cat and parrot included. The pigeons of my neighbor have disappeared. Every day we have accounts of robberies, the preceding night, of cows, pigs, bacon, flour—and even the setting hens are taken from their nests!

April, Monday 11, 1864

Helen, Father, the children and myself spent the day alone, the rest all in Memphis. Joanna came home, succeeded in getting Father’s permit for supplies, brought no late news. Miss Perdue & Noble banished, leave tomorrow. I expect I will be next. I was so happy to hear Miss Em is expected today, my future plans depend upon her advice. Tate & Nannie staid in M. all night. Col. Overton came to see us today, just up from Dixie,—everybody hopeful and confident of a bright day soon. Mr. McMahon, 2d. Mo Cav came this eve. I was so disapointed about letting his things go—though he seemed perfectly satisfied, as he had replenished his wardrobe from Yankee Prison in Grierson’s raids, he has been quite sick, is now on his way to Camp at Jackson, Tenn—he has his fine horse again. God grant him a safe journey, for he is a splendid Soldier. Gen. Armstrong with his brigade at Water Valley moving up—Ah! God is just, and I feel that we have not suffered in vain. We humbly pray for a cessation of this horrible war, oh! give us our independence & peace—We all sat in the parlor right late, Mr. Mc went further below. Tip & Laura both sleep, poor Beulah, I wonder where she is—

April 11th.–Drove with Mrs. Davis and all her infant family; wonderfully clever and precocious children, with unbroken wills. At one time there was a sudden uprising of the nursery contingent. They laughed, fought, and screamed. Bedlam broke loose. Mrs. Davis scolded, laughed, and cried. She asked me if my husband would speak to the President about the plan in South Carolina, which everybody said suited him. “No, Mrs. Davis,” said I. “That is what I told Mr. Davis,” said she. “Colonel Chesnut rides so high a horse. Now Browne is so much more practical. He goes forth to be general of conscripts in Georgia. His wife will stay at the Cobbs’s.”

Mrs. Ould gave me a luncheon on Saturday. I felt that this was my last sad farewell to Richmond and the people there I love so well. Mrs. Davis sent her carriage for me, and we went to the Oulds’ together. Such good things were served–oranges, guava jelly, etc. The Examiner says Mr. Ould, when he goes to Fortress Monroe, replenishes his larder; why not? The Examiner has taken another fling at the President, as, “haughty and austere with his friends, affable, kind, subservient to his enemies.” I wonder if the Yankees would indorse that certificate. Both sides abuse him. He can not please anybody, it seems. No doubt he is right.

My husband is now brigadier-general and is sent to South Carolina to organize and take command of the reserve troops. C. C. Clay and L. Q. C. Lamar are both spoken of to fill the vacancy made among Mr. Davis’s aides by this promotion.

To-day, Captain Smith Lee spent the morning here and gave a review of past Washington gossip. I am having such a busy, happy life, with so many friends, and my friends are so clever, so charming. But the change to that weary, dreary Camden! Mary Preston said: “I do think Mrs. Chesnut deserves to be canonized; she agrees to go back to Camden.” The Prestons gave me a farewell dinner; my twenty-fourth wedding day, and the very pleasantest day I have spent in Richmond.

Maria Lewis was sitting with us on Mrs. Huger’s steps, and Smith Lee was lauding Virginia people as usual. As Lee would say, there “hove in sight” Frank Parker, riding one of the finest of General Bragg’s horses; by his side Buck on Fairfax, the most beautiful horse in Richmond, his brown coat looking like satin, his proud neck arched, moving slowly, gracefully, calmly, no fidgets, aristocratic in his bearing to the tips of his bridle-reins. There sat Buck tall and fair, managing her home with infinite ease, her English riding-habit showing plainly the exquisite proportions of her figure. “Supremely lovely,” said Smith Lee. “Look at them both,” said I proudly; “can you match those two in Virginia?” “Three cheers for South Carolina!” was the answer of Lee, the gallant Virginia sailor.

Sunday, 10th–It is still raining; there appears to be nothing but rain, rain! I went to meeting again this morning, and accompanied Mr. Sparks home for dinner. Jason Sparks is going to enlist and return with us to the front. In the afternoon we all went to attend meeting at the Inland schoolhouse, but the preacher didn’t come, and so I spent the balance of the day with the family of Mr. Willey, and remained there till late in the evening.

April 10th. A cold, damp, disagreeable morning. Passed the Point of Rocks early this morning. Saw that the Potomac River was on a rampage owing to the recent heavy rains. On arrival at Harper’s Ferry formed in line for a march to Camp Hill, Bolivar Heights. During our absence the 34th Massachusetts Regiment was ordered to take our place, so took possession of our camp. We were forced to take quarters in old buildings until camp could be located and tents put up. A large mail was waiting for us. I received a number of letters.

APRIL 10th.—Rained all night. Cloudy to-day; wind south-west.

The Secretary of War must feel his subordination to Gen. Bragg. Gen. Fitz Lee recommended strongly a Prussian officer for appointment in the cavalry, and Mr. Seddon referred it to Gen. B., suggesting that he might be appointed in the cavalry corps to be stationed near this city. Gen. B. returns the paper, saying the President intends to have an organized brigade of cavalry from the Army of Northern Virginia on duty here, and there will be no vacancy in it. From this it seems that the Secretary is not only not to be gratified by the appointment, but is really kept in ignorance of army movements in contemplation!

Major Griswold has resigned, at last. He did not find his position a bed of roses. I believe he abandons the Confederate States service altogether, and will attend to the collection of claims, and the defense of prisoners, probably arrested by Major Carrington, his successor in office.

To-day I saw two conscripts from Western Virginia conducted to the cars (going to Lee’s army), in chains. It made a chill shoot through my breast. I doubt its policy, though they may be peculiar offenders.

The benevolent Capt. Warner, being persecuted by the Commissary-General for telling the truth in regard to the rations, etc., is settling his accounts as rapidly as possible, and will resign his office. He says he will resume his old business, publishing books, etc.

April, Sunday 10, 1864

Oh! what a relief to the weary, aching brain, when there seems naught for which to live; when this beautiful earth holds no joy; when the glorious sunsets, with their rose tinted clouds have no beauty; when our lifes barks seem drifting ceaselessly on, and we are powerless for good or ill—oh! what a relief to lie down, and closing our eyes, forget it all. To feel that at least while we slumber the scorpion-sting of memory is robbed of it’s poison,—the goading, burning lash of human thought stayed,—and then comes a day, glareing again,—and so it goes on to the bitter end. We are all alike in this wicked human world. Let us strive as we will to soar  above it, at last it all comes back to us—human hearts full of passion, love, and beauty—full of sin, sorrow, and suffering; the world overflowing with good and ill. Sometimes in life our value is appreciated, and we can claim true, affectionate, friends,—meet with lofty, generous souls, whose very beings thrill with instinctive love for the whole human race; but mostly we are not understood until the flowers and shadowy, green grass bloom and fade above us, and we lie mute below. Such is my life, how long it must be, no matter, God in his own good time will brighten my life. A beautiful day. Col. Perkins and Jimmie Greer spent the day with us, Helen & Nannie came home. I finished Corinthians—Father and all of us sat in the Parlor after tea. Laura & Bettie said a very good lesson. I am as usual alone, my two companions fast in slumber. God grant peace, we humbly crave, give us our liberty and make us a christian land. God bless my Brothers—

Scottsboro, Ala., April 9, 1864.

Don’t be alarmed and imagine that I have “photos” on the brain. This is in all probability the last remittance of the article that I shall make you. General Corse, our old brigade commander, we think a great deal of, and would like to have you preserve his picture. The little soldier, Johnny Clem, was a sergeant at the time of the Chickamauga battle, and fought like a hero. His comrades say he killed a Rebel officer of high rank there. For his gallant conduct in that massacre, General Thomas gave him a lieutenancy and position on his staff, where he now is. He is almost a perfect image of one, Willie Blackburn, who was my orderly in the 7th.

The day of jubilee has come at this post; that is, we have, once more, something fit to eat. This is the first day since we’ve been here that our commissary has furnished us with aught but regular rations. We can wish for nothing now, except “marching orders.” My men are in splendid condition. Everyone of them in A1 health and spirits. All the veterans of the division are back, except the three regiments of our brigade. The 55th Illinois has at last concluded to veteran. Two hundred of them will be at home shortly. They held a new election, left Malmsberg and Chandler out in the cold, and I understand, a goodly number of their best officers besides. Men who have not been under good disciplinarians, will almost invariably, if an election is allowed, choose good fellows for officers. [continue reading…]

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.