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Diary of a Refugee:
Electronic Edition
Fearn, Frances Hewitt
Illustrated by Rosalie Urquhart
Funding from the Library of Congress/Ameritech National Digital Library Competition supported the electronic publication of this title.
Text scanned (OCR) by
Jill Kuhn
Text encoded by
Kathleen Feeney and Natalia
Smith
First edition,
1997.
ca. 450K
Academic Affairs Library, UNC-CH
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill,
1997.
Call number E487 .F28 (Davis Library, UNC-CH)
Source Description:
Diary of a Refugee
Fearn, Frances
Hewitt
New York
Moffat, Yard and Company
1910
The electronic edition is a part of the
UNC-CH
digitization project, Documenting the American South.
Any hyphens occurring in line breaks have been removed,
and the trailing part of a word has been joined to the preceding line.
All quotation marks and ampersand have been transcribed as
entity references.
All double right and left quotation marks are encoded as " and
"
respectively.
Indentation in lines has not been preserved.
Running titles have not been preserved.
Spell-check and verification made against printed text using
Author/Editor (SoftQuad) and Microsoft Word spell check programs.
Library of Congress Subject Headings
Languages Used:
- French
- Spanish
LC Subject Headings:
- Women -- Louisiana -- Diaries.
- Women -- Southern States -- Diaries.
- Plantation life -- Louisiana -- History -- 19th century.
- Louisiana -- Social life and customs.
- Confederate States of America -- Social life and customs.
- Refugees -- Louisiana.
- Refugees -- Southern States.
- United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Personal narratives, Confederate.
- United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Women.
Revision History:
-
1997-12-18,
Natalia Smith, project editor,
finished TEI-conformant encoding and final proofing.
-
1997-11-30,
Kathleen Feeney
finished TEI/SGML encoding
- 1997-11-02,
Jill Kuhn
finished scanning (OCR) and proofing.
[Cover Image]
[Frontispiece Image]
OLD CREOLE HOUSE From a drawing by Rosalie Urquhart
DIARY OF A REFUGEE
EDITED BY
FRANCES FEARN
ILLUSTRATED BY
ROSALIE URQUHART
NEW YORK
MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY
1910
COPYRIGHT, 1910 BY FRANCES FEARNNEW YORK
Published September, 1910
THE QUINN & BODEN CO. PRESS
RAHWAY, N. J.
[Title Page Image]
Page iii
TO CLARICE IN FIVE GENERATIONS
May the Clarice of to-day reincarnate the spirit and the flesh of those four noble women of her name, affiliating the child through her forbears with the soul and body of her Great, Great Grandmother Clarice
Page v
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
- The Old Creole House . . . . . Frontispiece
- The Old Plantation House . . . . . 14
- Evangeline Oak . . . . . 22
- The Dark Forest . . . . . 32
- Gen. U. S. Grant . . . . . 40
- The Camp on the Plains . . . . . 54
- Mexican Water Jars . . . . . 72
- Havana Harbor . . . . . 78
- Clarice . . . . . 84
- A Review Day under the Empire . . . . . 94
- Napoleon III . . . . .100
- Christine Nilsson . . . . .102
- The Empress Eugénie . . . . . 106
- The Tuileries in 1880 . . . . .116
- The Writer of the Diary . . . . . 124
- The Clarice of To-day . . . . . 140
Page vii
INTRODUCTION
IT was while I was spending the summer in Virginia, where I had gone in search of quiet and rest, after my extensive tour through the country, that I saw in one of the papers an appeal from a Historical Society, to those who had any real data in regard to the Civil War to publish it, as so many who were connected with the war on both sides were rapidly dying off.
I remembered a diary kept during the war by a member of my family, who was a woman of rare qualities of brain, and heart, with an unusually just mind. I felt sure that anything written by her would be so liberal and fair that it could not fail but prove interesting reading, for the people of both the North and the South. From what she had told me, and remembering as a child many things myself, I am able to fill in the gaps when necessary.
While preparing the Diary for publication,
Page viii
I saw the possibility of making an interesting drama from it, so I have dramatized it, giving the play as title the famous words of General Grant, "Let us have peace." I have also obtained permission of General Frederick Grant to have his father, General U. S. Grant, impersonated on the stage.
Several years ago I read a book called "Ground Arms," by an Austrian noblewoman, which made a strong impression upon me, for it was written with great power and ability, and was an eloquent protest against the evils of war.
If either "The Diary of a Refugee" or the play can in any way convey the horrors of war to the public and make them feel as I do in regard to the terrible suffering and misery which it entails upon so many innocent people, then indeed I shall feel that my work has not been in vain. This is the spirit that has prompted me to edit the Diary and to dramatize it. I hope the public, on reading the book and seeing the play, will take my representation of Southern life as a true one, and after following the family through their trials and troubles, will understand with what
Page ix
great sincerity and thankfulness they echo General Grant's famous words, "Let us have peace."
It is with great pleasure that I give a letter received from Admiral Dewey expressing his approval of the description given in the "Diary of a Refugee" of the battle of Port Hudson, as the Admiral was on the"Mississippi" at the time.
OFFICE OF
ADMIRAL OF THE NAVY,
WASHINGTON.
April 14, 1910.
MY DEAR MRS. FEARN:
I have read the extract from your mother's diary with the greatest interest. I would suggest that you publish it just as she saw it at the time, and it will form a very interesting history of that part of the Civil War.
With sincere regards,
Faithfully yours,
GEORGE DEWEY.
This was in answer to a letter that I wrote asking him if he could suggest any changes or additions to the account of the battle given in the Diary.
FRANCES FEARN.
Page 1
DIARY OF A REFUGEE
[I]
CRESCENT PLANTATION,
BAYOU LAFOURCHE, LA.,
APRIL, 1862.
Saturday.
WITH a sad heart and a feeling of great depression I went on my usual round of visits to-day. First to the negroes' hospital, then to see the young mothers who have recently been confined; afterwards to the children's ward, where they are kept during the day under the care of an old mammy, while their mothers are at work in the fields. These and many other daily duties incumbent upon the mistress of a plantation, leave one few spare hours.
I found the inmates of the hospital awaiting me with great impatience and eagerness, but I fear they missed my usual cheerfulness in spite of the effort I made to bring all the cheer and comfort I could to the poor suffering ones. It was impossible not to feel the
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foreshadowing of the evil days that must inevitably come to us with the fall of New Orleans.
One of my greatest pleasures is in distributing the delicacies from our own table to the invalids. As coming from the master's table they are greatly appreciated.
To-day, as I sat and talked with the different ones, I must have shown in my face or manner the great anxiety that I was feeling, and perhaps I was a little more tender over them than usual, for they looked up into my face, and one said, "Ole missus, what is ailin' yo'? Yo' ain't never looked so sad befo'." My usual gayety and light-heartedness must indeed have left me; how could it be otherwise, feeling as I do the sense of coming danger? With the fall of New Orleans in the course of a short time we must leave our dear old home, and what will then become of the hospital and its inmates? This is my special work; I organized it and have carried it on under the direction of our excellent family physician, who attends and cares for the
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slaves as well as for the family. We have had some of the more intelligent negro women trained and taught to be nurses, for they make very good ones. Apart from any illness that the slaves are subject to, we often have accidents of a more or less serious nature, which must inevitably be the case where there is such a great variety of work. The plantation is really like a village, with its carpenter and blacksmith shops, its brick masons, and other trades, in which many of them show great skill and ability.
As it is Saturday, the day on which the women and children come to me for any clothes that they may need, I have had great pleasure in giving out to many of them the things that they ask for; of my many duties the one I enjoy most is the privilege my husband gives me of distributing the clothes to the women and children. The materials are bought in large quantities at wholesale prices. A certain number of seamstresses are detailed to make them up into all kinds of necessary garments for the men and women and children.
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After they are made, they are put in sets and kept in a large room, used only for that purpose. Each person is allowed a certain number of every necessary article of clothing. I am always pleased when I can reward a young woman, girl, or child for good conduct by giving an extra pretty dress, handkerchief, or perhaps a string of bright beads, as the latter is greatly prized.
When the crops have been good, my husband distributes a sum of money to the negroes in proportion to the extra amount of work that they have done during the grinding season. It is the occasion for great rejoicing and gayety. Everyone puts on their best clothes and a general feeling of good humor prevails. The gallery is gayly decorated where my husband sits at the table on which is placed the gold coin, and as each negro comes up in line, their name is called by the overseer and they receive the amount due to them according to the work that they have done and their good conduct during the year. The women and children are
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included. The young mothers receive a present for their babies and it is not an unusual occurrence for a mother to borrow an extra baby to present, so as to receive an additional present! When found out, this creates no end of joking and amusement. We all know it is sometimes difficult for white mothers to recognize their own offspring, but how much more difficult must it be for a man to know the difference between two black babies. Poor James is often fooled! It makes a picturesque scene, with the decorations of the gallery, the mixture of gay colors, the costumes of the negroes, and the vivid greens and bright tropical coloring of plants and flowers in the garden that surrounds the house.
The distribution of this money takes place immediately after the sugar is made. When the grinding season is over a week's holiday follows, during which the negroes, with great joy, prepare for the ball that is given at the end of the week. The negro women are allowed to go in the wagons used for hauling the cane to Donaldsville, the nearest village,
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where they are given the great pleasure of spending their money on the necessary adornment for the ball. Their great ambition is to be able to disappear from the ballroom several times during the evening, and to reappear with some startling addition to their toilets, thereby exciting the envy of the others.
We all take the greatest pride and pleasure in decorating the ballroom with wreaths of evergreen, flags, etc., and my husband gives them carte blanche for their supper as regards the killing of chickens and making of cakes, ice creams, and sweets of all kinds, for which they have a great weakness. The ball is opened by members of the family dancing the first set of Lancers. After that the floor is given up to the negroes, who enter into the enjoyment most heartily. Any stranger looking in upon this scene would not believe that they were slaves. But why should they not be light-hearted? They have no responsibilities, they are well cared for, and clothed and fed? If the war ends unsuccessfully for us, will they, with their freedom, remain thus?
Page 7
The night of the ball was clear and beautiful, the full moon bringing out all objects with a distinctness more vivid even than by day. The house and surrounding grounds were deserted, all having gone to the ball. My husband had been detained, so we were the last to leave the house. The road to the low building where the ball was going on was through a long avenue of overarching trees. Not a sound was to be heard or a moving object in sight, when suddenly there appeared in the path before us, as though coming up from the ground, a big negro, who held in his hand one of the large formidable knives used for cutting the cane. It glistened in the moonlight as he advanced threateningly towards my husband. He is the one vicious and really bad negro on the plantation. Being very lazy he had run off three months before, so as to avoid the hard work necessary for all hands during the grinding season.
My husband's influence over the slaves is very great, while they never question his authority, and are ever ready to obey him implicitly,
Page 8
they love him! It was only necessary for him to command this negro to put down his knife, for the darkey to fall at my husband's feet and beg for forgiveness. The negro's reason for returning at this time was in order to go to the ball. He said, "Ole massa, do what yo' will with me, only le' me go to the ball to-night!" My husband gave his permission, but said, "I'll not punish you, as you will receive your punishment at the hands of those whom you left to do your share of the work."
It was a terrible scene when he entered the ballroom. His fellow-slaves fell upon him, and it was with great difficulty that he was finally rescued after a severe beating at their hands and being put out of the ballroom. It is a curious fact that the good workers have no sympathy for those who run off and shirk their duty.
Sunday night.
The service that we had to-day in our little church on the plantation seemed to me unusually
Page 9
touching and pathetic. As I watched the faces of the slaves who were so unconscious of any impending evil in their lives, I felt instinctively that it was the last service that we should have together.
This church was built by my husband for the benefit of the slaves. Our dear pastor is from the North, he is very talented and a most excellent man. Curiously enough, he came South full of bitterness against all slave-owners. To his great astonishment, my husband, on first meeting him, employed him at a salary of five thousand dollars a year to take care of the religious education and training of the negroes. He accepted, feeling he had found a field for great missionary work; but not so much in regard to the negroes as to what he hoped to be able to accomplish with the wicked, benighted Southern slave-owners! He came fully prepared to preach a crusade against us, but he has succeeded in making us all love him, and I have every reason to believe that he has changed his opinions in many respects regarding us.
Page 10
Our plantation life has been a revelation to him, so different is it from what he expected. His influence over the slaves has been wonderfully good. He has educated one of the more intelligent men to become a preacher, and we go often to hear him when he preaches at the evening services. It is extraordinary what remarkable musical talent many of the negroes have, and also very sweet voices so that the singing in church is really unusually good.
Monday.
Another anxious day! The steamboats "Mary Tee" and "The Lafourche," chartered by my husband, are being loaded with sugar. The fires are kept up day and night ready to start as soon as the dreaded news reaches us that the Federal gunboats have passed the forts. The conduct of the negroes, and their evident desire to show their sympathy and readiness to aid us in every way in these trying times, is very touching. The more so as they know that the
Page 11
arrival of the Federals will mean their freedom.
Wednesday.
We were aroused in the middle of the night by the arrival of Richard. He had ridden for twenty-four hours, only stopping to change horses; as he brought us the fatal and dread tidings that New Orleans was in the possession of the enemy. We were a sad little group that gathered around the breakfast table, each one trying to cheer the other with the hope that our fate may not in reality be as dreadful as we anticipated.
This beautiful spring morning, the season of the year when the dear old place is at its best with a great abundance of roses of many varieties, none more lovely in the richness of its color than the "Cloth of Gold"; these with the greatest profusion of climbing roses that cover the pillars of the galleries, the fences, and run riot everywhere with a dark background of all the rich greens of the tropical plants, make a lovely scene, such as
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one is loath to leave. Never did the old typical Southern home, in its simplicity and comfort, seem so attractive, with the large rooms, high ceilings, and all that tends to make a home beautiful and comfortable, filled with interesting souvenirs of the many places that we have visited in our extensive travels. The most insignificant article seems to have a special value, and as I look upon it all, I feel instinctively that I shall never see it again.
Although I am a Virginian by birth and have lived all my life in the South and West, I have never approved of slavery. It has been one of the greatest sorrows and trials of my life that my husband should own so many slaves, both in Louisiana and Kentucky. This has made me feel the great responsibility resting upon us in the care of them, and I am thankful to say my husband has shared it with me, and always been willing and anxious to mitigate their condition as much as possible, by being kind, considerate, and just in his treatment of them. Their appreciation of what he has done for them has been clearly
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shown in their love and devotion to him and to each member of the family.
Last year, on an occasion when my husband had to leave us for many days, and there was no white person living within several miles of the house, before going he called the negroes around him and told them that he was going off to be absent some time, and to their care and protection he entrusted their mistress and his child. He felt that they would allow nothing to harm his loved ones during his absence. The night after he left was a beautiful, clear moonlight night. The house is entirely surrounded by a wide balcony on which all the front rooms open with French windows. In the middle of the night I heard an unusual sound and got up to ascertain the cause of it. As I opened my door I saw innumerable figures rise up in the moonlight, and a chorus of voices called out, "Don't be afraid, ole missus, we are just here guarding you and the child for ole massa." I went back to bed feeling that we were safe in their keeping, but I lay awake many hours wondering
Page 14
what freedom would do for these child-like people. Would they be improved by it, or would they lapse back into a savage condition when the firm and guiding hand of the master was taken from them?
My son's news of the fall of New Orleans was confirmed while we were at breakfast by a man on horseback, riding rapidly down the Bayou road, calling out as he went by, "The Yankees are coming!" It was the signal for us to gather up the things we most valued of our belongings and to go on board "The Lafourche," which was waiting with steam up in the Bayou, fronting the house, to carry us off.
It was a sad little group that left the dear old home. We were so overcome with sorrow and terror as to our future fate that we gave no thought of what we were taking with us. The negroes were far more thoughtful for us; one picked up my husband's favorite sofa, another his chair, one even went so far as to sweep the silver on the breakfast table into a handy clothes-basket and carry it on board.
THE OLD PLANTATION HOUSE
From a drawing by Rosalie Urquhart
Page 15
Indeed, we had great cause afterwards to be very thankful to them for their forethought in the provision that they made for our comfort and for the supplies that they put on board, the latter were sadly needed before our journey was over.
My heart was torn at the separation from my son Richard, who had returned to join his company. We Southern women need all our strength and courage to give up our sons and loved ones, our homes are taken from us, and we must become refugees!
My husband has been able to put on board the steamboat about one-half of this year's crop of sugar. The plantation is only three miles from Donaldsville, at the mouth of the Bayou Lafourche. When we entered the Mississippi River, it had become a seething mass of craft of all kinds and description that could be made into possible conveyances to carry away the terror-stricken people who were flying from their homes with their loved ones and treasures, all making a mad rush for the mouth of Red River.
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We who had lived on the plantation, with the greatest abundance of food and supplies of all kinds, have not felt the effects of the war, but now that we are refugees and in a part of the country that has been drained of much that it produced, and the white laboring man has joined the army, leaving the fields but scantily cultivated, we begin to feel the want of food. Our party consists of seven in the family and eighteen servants, and the officers and crew of the steamboat, making many mouths to feed; frequently we are not allowed to land if there are few provisions in the place, and are met at the wharf by men with shotguns, who not politely, but very forcibly, request us to move on, and it is not an unusual thing for us to have nothing but sweet potatoes and corn bread to eat for days at a time.
After months on board the steamboat, with bad water as well as a lack of proper food, we are all beginning to feel the effects, so that my husband has decided to go to Alexandria for the winter.
Page 17
II
ALEXANDRIA, AUGUST.
We arrived here none too soon as two of the family have typhoid fever, my daughter and niece. It would be impossible to tell of all the kindness and hospitality that we have received at the hands of these dear kind people. Dr. Davidson, not only a very skilled and remarkable physician, but loved by all who know him, is a most generous man, giving us much that cannot be bought for any amount of money. These are times when the possession of money means nothing, for there is nothing to buy with it. All the more one appreciates the kind generous hearts who are willing to share with others less fortunate than themselves whatever they may possess in the way of provisions.
A month later.
Now that my invalids are convalescent, my husband has rented a hotel which was once a
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favorite summer resort, twenty-five miles from Alexandria, in a pine forest, where there is also a very good spring of mineral water, which is supposed to be a good tonic suitable for strengthening our poor invalids.
Pine Forest.
What a remarkable place! The hotel which could accommodate two or three hundred people, has been abandoned and left to go to ruin. The furniture has been taken away, only a few beds remain with corn-shuck mattresses, and chairs, the seats of which are made of cowhide. It presented a forlorn appearance as we drove up. I must say that my heart sank at the prospect of making a home here. It seemed so hopeless.
Tuesday.
Yesterday I drove for twenty miles with Jack in the wagon drawn by four horses, carrying with me several hundred dollars with which to buy provisions. Imagine my despair and disappointment when I returned
Page 19
at night with one pint bottle of milk, a dozen eggs, a small sack of corn meal, and one chicken to feed twenty hungry mouths! What really saves us from starvation is a beautiful clear stream that runs through this forest. In it are the most delicious freshwater trout, at least they seem so to us. My husband delights in awaking the children in the morning at an early hour with the call, "Get up, girls, fish, or no breakfast." So he would have us all out fishing most seriously for the food of the day. We cook them out of doors (we have no stove) in our only cooking utensil, - a frying-pan. There is also a coffee-pot, which we look at with longing eyes in anticipation of the day when we shall have some coffee made in it, but as yet we have not been able to find any coffee that we could buy.
Ten days later.
Great excitement yesterday. We saw an Indian coming from the forest with a deer on his back. The shout that we sent up must
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have reminded him forcibly of his tribe when on the war path. He started to run, but there was no escape for him, he was too quickly surrounded by a hungry crowd. The gold pieces that we held out to him very soon changed his fears to amusement and wonder, for he had never seen so much money before. The deer was quickly dropped at our feet, and the money grasped with great eagerness, for he was all anxiety to get away, thinking perhaps that we might regret our bargain. He little knew how hungry we were, and what a feast that deer represented to us. Never did anything taste so good.
We had another piece of good luck. One of the children found a tomato bush in an old, abandoned vegetable garden. These, added to the venison, made indeed a feast fit for the gods in our eyes.
In spite of the lack of food and comforts we are all improved in health, for the pure air of this pine forest and the water have proved such good tonics that our invalids have entirely recovered.
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With the approach of winter and the condition of the house being such that it affords no protection against the cold (no glass in the windows and the roof open in many places), my husband has decided to go back to Alexandria for that season. The question of clothes has become a very serious one; it is not that we are concerned as to the latest fashions. Oh, no. It is too serious for that small consideration. I really do not know how we could have got through the winter if we had not had a great piece of good luck. While living on the steamboat, my husband received a letter from the owner of a country store on Bayou Plaquemine, offering to sell him the contents of the store, for what seemed a very large sum of money, if my hus- would pay him half of it in sugar and the rest in gold. The Bayou was too narrow for us to go in the steamboat, so we rowed up in small boats, starting at dawn.
It was a day never to be forgotten. The beauty and picturesqueness of the Bayou have been made famous in Longfellow's "Evangeline."
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In our imagination we passed the very spot where Evangeline was asleep, and Gabriel, her lover, went by not seeing her.
From the realms of poetic imagination we were suddenly brought face to face with the stern realities of life, for we were badly in need of clothes. My husband had no list of the contents of the store, so we were unable to form any idea of what we might find. When we reached it, on opening the door he said, "Now, girls, it is all yours," which was as welcome a sound to us as if he was offering us a gold mine. Just imagine a lot of women without sewing materials of any kind! - no thread, needles, buttons, etc., to say nothing of dress materials - turned loose even in a country store. No words can describe the excitement and exultant exclamations on opening a box to find the very things that we needed most, as we had become very simple in our wants and tastes. There was no question of scorning anything. Oh, no! We were overjoyed when we found about sixty yards of old-fashioned plaid barege, and such
EVANGELINE OAK
From a drawing by Rosalie Urquhart
Page 23
a plaid! The size of the squares and odd mixture of colors were very startling, but that made no difference. We rose above such small matters, it meant a dress.
We filled the boat with our newly acquired possessions and returned to the steamer feeling happier and much relieved in our minds, in regard to the replenishing of our wardrobes for the winter. One must see the contents of an American country store to appreciate the great variety and possibilities it affords, as it contains a little of everything.
ALEXANDRIA.
We are now settled for the winter in rather a well-furnished house, and are quite comfortable. I have started the children to school, my daughter and nephew. My husband's sugar is a blessing, not only to us, but throughout this part of the country, as with it he is able to get in exchange much that cannot be bought with money. His great desire is to get together by means of his sugar a supply of provisions for some of our Army
Page 24
posts that are beginning to feel the want of food, owing to the blockade. How the Southern women suffer, thinking of our dear brave young sons, who have been brought up in the greatest luxury and ease, many fighting in the ranks of our Army, enduring the greatest hardships and privations. We know that they are doing it without a murmur and we are proud of their brave and unselfish lives.
ALEXANDRIA.
APRIL, 1863.
Shall I ever be able to recall all that I have gone through since I last made an entry in my diary? It seems an eternity, so much have I suffered and such terrible scenes have I witnessed.
When my husband had succeeded in collecting a sufficient quantity of provisions he offered them to the Government for the relief of the garrison at Port Hudson, where my son Richard was stationed. The Government gave him the use of a steamer and the
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permission to take us with him. He went with the hope of being able to see Richard. The trip down the river was made safely, without any accident worth recording. But on the afternoon of March 14th we felt the signs of excitement, for when we got in sight of Port Hudson it was evident that the Federal gunboats were getting into line for the approaching battle. The Captain felt a hesitation about landing, but we were too anxious to see Richard, so after a consultation we decided to risk it, and most thankful were we for having done so.
Strangely enough the general in command selected Richard (without knowing that we were on the steamer), to bring the order to the Captain telling him not to remain at the landing, but to go around the bend of the river in front of Port Hudson, to await the result of the battle. In case the enemy passed we were to go up the river to Port de Russy. The Captain disobeyed the order to the extent of remaining fifteen minutes, enabling us to have these precious moments
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with our dear boy. By this time it was dark. The order was for all lights to be put out on the boat. Even blankets were held up in front of the engine fires as we crept around the bend. We had not gone far, however, before the Federal gunboats opened fire upon us, the shells falling fast and thick. Had one of them struck our frail wooden steamer it would have been instantaneous death to all and complete destruction of the steamer.
Our escape from destruction or capture was owing to the fact that the gunboat "Mississippi" which was detailed to capture us was struck by a shell from our forts, and her machinery being disabled she ran aground and caught fire. We were near enough to hear the commands given on the "Mississippi" and to witness the terrible scenes that followed when she caught fire. I shall never forget the terrors of it, and not until we were safely around the bend of the river in front of Port Hudson did we realize the extent of our own danger, and how narrow an escape we had made. We completely lost all
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thought or consciousness of any personal danger to ourselves. We could think of nothing but Richard and the gallant defenders of our forts. The fleet against them looked so grim and formidable that our hearts were filled with terror at the thought of what their fate might be.
After we reached our point of refuge we waited, according to our instructions, until midnight, when we saw the Federal gunboat "Hartford" pass the forts. This was to be the signal for us to go on to Fort de Russy, seventy miles up the river, the garrison there being in great need of food. We were able to give them some of the supplies, but it was not long before the fort was taken and we were compelled to return to Alexandria. I fear it will be a long, anxious waiting before we can learn Richard's fate.
Several months later.
My husband has at last joined us after many months of anxiety and uncertainty as to his fate, being unable to communicate with
Page 28
him or in any way get news of him. He returned to the plantation, as he felt anxious about the slaves and wanted to see what he could do for them.
The plantation facing on the Bayou is three miles in length, but extends many miles back to the swamps. My husband returned to it from the rear, and none too soon, for as he entered from the swamps the Federals were approaching from Donaldsville, coming by the Bayou road in front of the plantation. He called the negroes around him and told them that when the Federals took possession of the place they would be given their freedom, but if they wanted to go with him, he would take them to Texas where he would give them work and treat them as he had always done, but they would still be slaves. In answer a chorus of voices exclaimed, "Ole Massa, we'll go with yo'." Out of several hundred slaves only fifteen young half-grown boys remained on the place. My husband then ordered all the wagons to be made ready, the very large
Page 29
ones which are used for hauling sugar-cane from the fields to the mill, each requiring four mules. In these he put the old women, young children, and the sick; the women and those who were able followed on foot. The negroes were allowed to take some of their belongings with them, as they placed great value upon their personal possessions, and would have been very unhappy at leaving them. Of this fact my husband realized the importance, as he did not wish them to become dissatisfied so as to regret their decision to go with him. It was not many hours after they went off that the Federals entered the plantation from the front and took possession of the place. The Federal officers of the regiment occupied the dear old house for several months before they destroyed it. One of the officers fell in love with a Creole girl living near the place. He told her that they were going to destroy the house and what they could not carry off they would break up or burn. If there was anything she would like to have he would gladly give it
Page 30
to her. She asked for my beautiful silver tea- kettle that she knew I valued greatly, also the piano which was much prized. He sent them to her. In a letter which I have just received from her she writes me that she is keeping them for me, and regrets that she did not ask for more, as everything has been taken away, silver, pictures, and many things that I have been collecting for years, and with which I have very dear associations. Oh! this awful war. When will it end? How many innocent ones must suffer for the ambition of the terrible politicians. If only those who caused the war had to suffer, it would be more just.
My husband's account of his experience during the hundreds of miles he traveled with his slaves is really most extraordinary. They were often very short of food and had many hardships to endure, but not once did the slaves falter or cease in their vigilant care and consideration of him.
After a long and fatiguing day their only sleeping-place would be on the ground, and
Page 31
those who could would sleep in the wagons, but the negroes never failed to make a comfortable place for him. It is a strange sight to see these trains of wagons and negroes going through the country often with only one member of their master's family, and not infrequently there would be only a woman who most confidingly intrusted herself to the protection and care of her slaves when escaping from home and seeking safety wherever one could find it. In most cases it was in Texas.
A touching instance of this was a beautiful young girl of eighteen years of age, who was an orphan with only two brothers. When they went off to join the Army she was left in charge of the plantation. One of her brothers was killed, the younger one returned home badly wounded, just as the Federals were approaching their plantation, and they were making their escape from the rear, as my husband had done, with her brother in a wagon made into an impromptu ambulance by the negroes, all of whom faithfully
Page 32
followed her. To their care she intrusted herself and the wounded boy, for he was not more than twenty; for weeks they traveled through a country not seeing a white person for days. She gave touching accounts of how the negroes would take turns in helping her nurse the wounded boy, carrying him often in their arms when the road would be so rough that they feared the jolting of the wagon might increase his sufferings, showing always the greatest love and loyalty to the two young creatures who felt no fear in their care. After reaching Texas they became our neighbors, and I learned to know how much they owed to the care and devotion of these blacks during this long journey. But this brave dear young girl was called upon to face the additional sorrow of seeing her brother gradually pass away.
THE DARK FOREST
From a drawing by Rosalie Urquhart
Page 33
III
SHREVEPORT, LA.
Alas! there seems no rest for us, as again we must start on our wanderings. This time Texas is our destination. It is urgent that we should get there as soon as possible; owing to the fact that James has bought a ranch on which he wishes to settle the negroes, it is important that he should be there to organize the work in establishing them.
We reached here yesterday, coming by boat from Alexandria. It was a sad trip for us all, but oh! most touchingly sad for dear Mrs. General Taylor, who was put under my husband's care with her four children, two of them bright, promising boys, both handsome and fine specimens of health. The elder was named for his grandfather, President Zachary Taylor, and the other for his father, General Richard Taylor, familiarly
Page 34
known to his friends as "Dick" Taylor, a gallant soldier and a most charming man.*
The second day out.
One of the boys showed symptoms of scarlet fever, but before it was really known what was the matter with him he died very suddenly.
Two days later.
I have been all day with Mrs. Taylor. It is marvelous, her courage and sweet resignation to the will of God, as both of her darling boys are dead. The younger died this morning. In the midst of her own overwhelming sorrow she is unselfishly thinking what a terrible grief it would be to her husband who is with the army, fighting gallantly in defense of our country. The two little girls are a great comfort to their mother, as they are very sweet and attractive children.
* He was a great personal friend of King Edward VII of England.
Page 35
A week later. It is a great temptation to linger on here as
everyone has been most kind and hospitable,
sharing generously with us whatever they have.
It is an attractive little city with its many pretty
and comfortable houses, and as the weather is
very hot they seem delightfully cool and most
suitable for this part of the State. The friends who have taken us in have large
and beautiful grounds surrounding their
houses, the gardens of which are full of the
greatest profusion and variety of flowers, with
some fine old trees. It all seems so peaceful
and quiet that it is hard to realize the dreadful
war raging not far from us, the beautiful and
happy homes that have been destroyed, the
brokenhearted men and women who are
wandering from place to place in search of
safety and peace. Oh! the horrors of war and
most dreadful of all, of civil war; brother
fighting against brother and families divided.
God grant that it may not last long is the prayer
that is in the hearts
of the suffering women in the North as well as
in the South. James just told me that all the arrangements
for our trip are completed and that we start
to-morrow, going in our own carriages, taking
an extra wagon to carry our few possessions in
the way of clothes and provisions; also the
servants. It is with really great regret that I
leave our dear, good, kind friends and this
attractive place where I had rest and peace. KAUFMAN RANCH, TEXAS.
A month later. We reached here yesterday, glad to get to
even this wooden shanty, which is to be our
home for the next few months, but one could
not call it luxurious in its appointments, for
last night we were awakened by the rain falling
in on us, so much so that we spent the greater
part of the night sitting up under umbrellas. I meant to keep an account of our trip, but I
was generally so tired when we stopped
for the night that I really could not write. The
trip was monotonous, nothing very exciting
happened. We usually made an early start in
the morning, sometimes before sunrise, and
we were well repaid for doing so, as it was
often very beautiful, the sun rising over the
plains and the air deliciously cool at that hour
in the morning. Then at midday, we were
generally fortunate enough to camp by the side
of a clear running stream, giving us the chance
of a bath, which we found most refreshing, as
it was always very hot in the middle of the day. The country was not particularly interesting,
some parts were made pretty and attractive by
the beautiful wild flowers, and the growth of
trees following the stream, but as a rule it was
monotonous, sometimes we could not even
see the sign of a house during the whole way.
When we reached one at night we were always
offered the hospitality of the place, and not
infrequently the house would be too small to
take us all in, so the men would sleep on the
balcony and the women
were given the beds; but I preferred the balcony
and fresh air. They offered most
generously to share with us whatever food they
had prepared for themselves, but unfortunately
the frying-pan was the one cooking utensil in
which all their food was cooked, so I took milk
and boiled eggs. These country people are very
simple and kind-hearted. Many of them have
had very tragic lives coming to this State from
all parts of the country, often for tragic
reasons. They welcome strangers, as in them
they feel a connecting link with the world
which they have left behind. A month later. Nothing has happened during these weary
weeks of anxiety that is worthy to be recorded
here. I fear I am allowing myself to get into a
most despondent state of mind, which is not
usual with me, but how can it be otherwise
when I am so anxious about Richard, who is a
prisoner on Johnson's Island. He was
captured at the fall of Port Hudson. I
am indeed most grateful to have seen him, and
how merciful it was that I was permitted to
have those few moments with him before the
battle began and we were ordered off! Now we have just heard that my son James
has been given command of the Second
Kentucky Regiment, having recovered from
the wound he received at Fort Donaldson.
Louis, too, is a captain in one of the Louisiana
regiments. My three boys! It is so sad! Tuesday. I have just written to General Grant, asking
him to do what he can for Richard for the sake
of old associations, for as boy and girl we
were much together, and I have always loved
him. The great soldier will never be to me
anything but the shy boy with a big, loving,
generous heart, and a simple nature. I feel sure
he will use his influence for Richard, his
cousin. What makes it so dreadful is that we
have no mail service. The post office is fifteen
miles away, and the letters are brought there by
any chance rider who may
be going through the country, passing that way,
and who will kindly take the letters from one
post office to another, leaving them at his
convenience. We have an occasional
excitement in an encounter with the much
dreaded tarantulas, but we get out of their way
as quickly as possible, for they are difficult to
kill, and the bite is generally fatal. In spite of our efforts to make our wooden
shanty even habitable, we find it impossible. It
is not a question of money, for we have plenty,
but the necessary materials are not to be had at
any price. We are grateful for any distraction,
even the smallest incident is made much of. So
we enjoy the excitement of sending men on
horseback in every direction to the country
stores within twenty or thirty miles to hunt for
shoes, as we are all sadly in need of them. One
of the searchers came back very triumphant, as
he had found one pair in a country store twenty
miles away, but as they asked him seventy-five
dollars for them, he hesitated about bringing
the shoes; he was promptly sent back to fetch
them.
GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT
Great was the excitement when he returned
with the shoes. As they were of a small size we
all wished that our feet might not prove too
large! It was an anxious moment when our turn
came to try them on, but I am glad that they fit
one of the girls, whose pretty little feet made
her the Cinderella of the occasion. Our only neighbor is the young girl that I
spoke of before, who came here alone with her
wounded brother. TOWN OF FAIRFIELD.
I opened you, my dear little book, to pour
out the despairing cry of a broken-hearted
mother. Since I last wrote, I have suffered too
much to be able to record it. Now I feel that I
must, that perhaps it will help me, and I want to
write an account of what my brave little
daughter has done. James was away. He had come here on
business, when someone riding through the
country brought a letter to the ranch, as he
had been well paid to deliver it. The letter was
from an officer of James' regiment. He wrote
describing my brave boy's death on September
the 19th, at the battle of Chickamauga; how he
was killed at the head of his regiment charging
a battery. When I realized what it meant, I
became unconscious, and passed from one
fainting spell into another, and then into a state
of torpor. The only person with me was my
little daughter. She realized that I must have the
comfort and help of being with my husband,
also that I was in a very desperate mental
condition. Her first thought was to get me here.
The ranch is twenty miles away. My husband
had the carriage, so there was nothing to bring
me in but the buggy, and she was unwilling to
send me with one of the negroes, owing to my
terrible mental condition. But even children in
such times imbibe the spirit of fearlessness. So
she, losing all sense of danger, started with me
lying by her side in a helpless condition. She
drove through the dark night, going through
forests, crossing
streams that were swollen by the recent rains,
sometimes over the prairie, where the howls of
the prairie dogs seemed to bring them close
upon us. On, on, on she drove; the little white
face peering eagerly through the darkness for
the first glimpse of the dawn, and shortly after
it appeared, she brought me safely to the house
where my husband was staying. Poor little one!
They told me she was so exhausted by the
fatigue and excitement of the night that she fell
asleep at once upon entering the house. There
were many days that they despaired of my life,
but being able to have the best medical
attention, and with the tender nursing and care
of my husband, I am now able to be about, but,
oh, so anxious about Louis and Richard. I am
most thankful that my youngest son Charles,
who, owing to his delicate health, was
compelled to remain North, has thus been
removed from danger.
FAIRFIELD.
Poor James is in a most terrible state of
mind, as he has heard that one of his partners in
New York, fearing that our home there may be
confiscated, has sold the house with the
furniture and all it contains at auction.
Intending this to be the home of our old age, we
had spared no expense in making it luxurious in
all its appointments. It is very hard to think that
all the beautiful works of art which we had been
years collecting, old pictures, and rare
manuscripts have all been sold. My husband
does not believe that it was necessary. He
thinks Mr. Adams became panic-stricken, and
did it without consulting his older and wiser
friends in New York. This has made him very anxious about other
valuable property and large interests which he
has in the North, and has made him decide to
start for England at once, where he could get
into communication with his friends. It will be
several days before we can get sufficient
provisions together and make other
necessary preparations. We must travel in the
same way as we came here, at least as far as
San Antonio.
SAN ANTONIO. Nothing could equal our joy at reaching this
haven of rest. Never did a place seem more
enchanting and offer to the weary travelers so
much that was enticing and refreshing. After
our long and fatiguing journey of weeks, when
during the latter part of it we slept nearly
always on the ground with nothing but a blanket
under us, we truly appreciated the luxury of a
bed. The place itself is fascinating and
picturesque, with many of the old Spanish
houses still remaining. The river running
through parts of the city, with gardens leading
down to it in the rear of the dwellinghouses,
makes it most attractive. These gardens are
well kept and have a great variety of flowers
and plants peculiar to this latitude. We are overwhelmed with the kindness
and hospitality of the people. Mr. Hunton
and
his wife, with whom we are staying, are
charming and delightful. They are doing
everything to make our stay an enjoyable one
for us, but what we are most in need of is rest,
for we are all worn out by the trip. We also
need to replenish our wardrobe, as we can buy
some materials here and it is the first time that
we have been able to do so since we emptied
the country store on Bayou Plaquemine, more
than a year ago! We hear that the Federal troops are in
possession of Brownsville. This will make it
necessary for us to change our plan of route,
and instead of going South through Texas, we
must cross into Mexico at Laredo. This will
take us across the plains of Texas, where there
is danger of the Indians, for lately they have
been making raids on the wagons loaded with
bales of cotton passing that way, killing the
drivers and carrying off the cotton. Now we
must wait here until we can get together a
sufficient number of men as a protection in
case of an encounter with the Indians.
I regret the necessity of giving up our own
carriages and the fact that we must go in public
stages, the old-fashioned ones, carrying nine
persons; three on the back seat, three in the
middle with only a strap at their backs, and
three with their backs to the horses. As the
weather is hot, we are buying only the simplest
thin materials for our dresses and other
garments. They tell us that we shall have to
leave them en route, for to have them washed
would be impossible. Our supply of provisions is to be limited to
smoked beef and corn bread and tea, if we are
lucky enough to get, first, the water to boil, and
then the wood to make a fire, as alcohol is out
of the question. Our friends are trying to
persuade me not to go with James, and
reproach him for being willing to expose us to
such great danger. They little know how
impossible it would be for me to stay, that
nothing could separate me from my husband
under the circumstances. These are heroic
times! They call for heroic action on the part
of the women as well as the men.
We must not know what fear means. I have
long since driven all sense of it from my heart.
It does not exist for me, and the same is the
case with our daughter since we received our
baptism of fire at Port Hudson. The party is gradually being gathered
together. To-day James tells me that a
Scotchman, two Irishmen, a Swede, three or
four Englishmen, also some Texans are going!
There are sixteen in all. The necessary number
must be eighteen, so we have to wait for two
more to be found. They will all be well armed
and carry a good supply of ammunition. It all
seems very exciting, but they are gradually
reducing our allowance of luggage to a most
distressingly small amount. All spare space
must be given up to carrying fodder and food
for the mules. Our allowance is one trunk for
three of us, as it must be carried at the back of
the stage. We have our handbags, a pillow, and
a blanket to sleep on, for the chances are that
we shall seldom find a house or shelter of any
kind. With this trip in prospect we have so enjoyed
our rest here. The house that we are
staying in is most comfortable and luxurious in
many respects. I think it seems doubly so to us
after the many trying experiences we have had
since we left our own dear old home on the
plantation. My dear little companion, I am
afraid that I shall not be able to write you up en
route, as traveling all day in the fresh air makes
me very sleepy when night comes on, and then
I am often very tired, though fortunately I am
strong and well. In a few minutes we are off; the party is
complete in number and the awful stagecoach
is at the door, awaiting our party of four and
our few possessions. It does not take long to
store them away. Several weeks later. This is the first time that I have felt like
writing since we left San Antonio, more than
two weeks ago. Indeed, until the night before
last I have had nothing of special interest to
record. The days have succeeded each
other with the same routine, only varied by
more or less of hardship, fatigue, and lack of
food and water. The latter is the most terrible,
for at times we had to go many hours before
reaching a place where we could get water fit
to drink. The weather is hot, the roads are dusty, so we
have suffered intensely at times from the most
parching thirst. When we were able to find
good drinking water we filled every available
bucket, bottle, or anything in which we could
carry it. The tin buckets and bottles we have
covered with flannel, and they are hanging
outside of the coach so as to catch any breath
of wind that there may be, as this is our only
method of cooling the water. We always make a very early start so as to
get the benefit of the freshness of the
morning, stopping for several hours in the
middle of the day to rest the mules and
ourselves. I cannot say that we look forward
with any eagerness to our midday meal unless
by chance we have passed through a village
and been able to buy some eggs and milk. But
as we are a large party, whatever we are
fortunate enough to get has to be divided
among so many that it makes each portion very
small, but we were grateful for any change
from dried beef and corn bread. I cannot say that we always get our midday
rest under the most favorable conditions, as
frequently the only shade we can find is in the
shade of the stage-coaches, not a tree or
vegetation of any kind being in sight. The first
five nights after leaving San Antonio were
beautifully clear, so mild that we could sleep
most comfortably out of doors. Only one night
did we have rain. Then we had to sleep as best
we could, literally sitting up all night in the
coaches. My daughter gave a very amusing
account of how she had spent the night,
refusing to allow an Irishman on one side of
her and a Scotchman on the other to make a
pillow of her soft young shoulders. Her
remonstrances at first called forth abject
apologies on their part, but as the night wore
on, it became a war of defense on her part and
perfectly unconscious recklessness on theirs.
As they are good friends of hers and
exceedingly nice men, they all had a hearty
laugh over it next morning. The life that we are living draws us very
closely together, so much so that we have
become like one large family. I am glad to say
there is not a disagreeable or objectionable
member. It is the more remarkable as we are of
different nationalities and walks of life,
therefore, have different tastes and habits. But
what unites us in a strange bond of friendship
and makes us equals, is the sharing of hardships
and the threatening danger that we have in
common. This was forcibly shown the night
before last, when we had such an alarming
experience which brought out the true mettle
of all the members of our party. Always before settling down for the night we
sent out scouts to see if there were any Indians
near enough to us to disturb our peace during
the night. We had that day
passed scalps by the roadside, and there were
evidences of there having recently been a
conflict between the Indians and a number of
those who accompanied a train of cotton
wagons. They had undoubtedly been killed and
the cotton carried off by the Indians. We
traveled far into the night until our mules
became so exhausted that we had to stop on
their account. We hoped to get away from a
neighborhood where there might still be some
Indians lurking about. Our worst fears were
confirmed by the scouts returning with the
account of a camp of Indians not far from us.
We could go no farther, our mules were
exhausted, so there was nothing for us to do but
to make our means of defense as strong as
possible. I cannot say too much in praise of the
brave and gallant men who were to be our
defenders. To add to the difficulties of the
situation the night was dark, so that all our
preparations had to be made in silence and by
starlight, no one speaking above a whisper. No
fires could be made for fear of attracting the
notice of
THE CAMP ON THE PLAINS
the much-dreaded Indians. The stars were the
only witnesses of the solemn and hasty means
of defense made by this little group of weary
travelers. The only other women in the party
were Clarice, Belle, my daughter-in-law, and
her little girl. We were to stay in the center of
the camp, the stage-coaches forming a
barricade around us. There was a thick growth
of underbrush not far from where we camped;
this was cut and brought in large quantities and
arranged in piles so as to form an outside
barricade behind which our defenders stood.
We also hoped it would serve to conceal from
those who were attacking us how few we were
in number. Belle and I were to have charge of
the extra ammunition, giving it to the men
when they needed it. After all possible means
of defense had been completed, we said our
prayers and waited silently and motionless,
feeling sure that the Indians must know how
near we were to them. It was a night of
inexpressible horror. What we suffered is
beyond description. When the first break of
dawn
came we were a weary, exhausted little band,
and on looking at each other were shocked to
find every face around us showing great lines
and traces of the anxiety and suffering of the
night. When we realized that we had passed
safely through it, we all knelt, and from every
heart went up a prayer of great thankfulness for
what seemed to us a miraculous escape. As the
day wore on we took turns in resting, for we
were not at all sure but what we might still hear
from the neighboring camp, and about one
o'clock we did, but in a very different way from
what we had expected. One of their scouts came over to our camp,
and to our surprise and joy we found that those
whom we had taken for Indians were the drivers
and scouts of a train of cotton wagons. Their
relief on finding out about us was as great as
ours, for they too had stayed up all night under
arms, supposing our camp to be one of Indians,
and expecting an attack from us! After an evening of rejoicing we took a
good rest, and started next day for Laredo, our
next destination. LAREDO. We reached here late last evening with the
hope of finding some decent place where we
might be moderately comfortable and rest for
a few days before starting for Mexico. Alas! Alas! Our hopes soon vanished, and
great was our disappointment when we saw the
only accommodation that we could get. There
is no hotel and the town is crowded, not a spare
bed to be found. We drove around the place,
stopped before every decent-looking house,
my husband offering a large sum of money if
they would only take us in. We were always
met with the same answer, and were very
politely informed that nothing would give them
more pleasure than to have us, but they really
had not a spare bed! Finally, in despair, we had
to take the only room which we could get, it is
in an adobe house. The floor is simply of earth.
The
bunks in which we sleep are like those of
immigrants on board transport ships. On each
side of the room are six berths in a row. One side
is supposed to be for the men and the other for
the women, the latter having a thin cotton
curtain in front of them. Not a chair or piece of
furniture of any kind, nor the tiniest bit of a
looking-glass! For all toilet purposes we have
to go to the public fountain in the patio! We
have succeeded after a great deal of coaxing
and bribing in getting our landlady to partition
off a corner of the patio, and after searching in
the town we finally found a wooden wash-tub,
which we put in this reserved corner and that
serves as our bathtub. We take our baths under
some difficulties, as the curiosity of the
smaller members of the family and their little
friends is so great that we have to place
someone on guard to protect us from the
invasion of curious eyes. We are feeling really very sad at parting
with our friends with whom we have shared so
many trials, difficulties, and dangers, which
has cemented a strong and lasting friendship
between us, even if we never meet again. We are buying a small supply of provisions
that can be easily carried. It is, however, a
great relief to us to hear that in the Mexican
towns we can always get a good cup of
chocolate and fresh eggs. Now it is a greater
joy that we can have our own carriages and
in every way be more comfortable. Our
party will consist of ourselves and only two
others, both of them very agreeable and good
traveling companions. Our week here has done us good
notwithstanding that we have been so very
uncomfortable in our lodgings, but the food
has been good. Fortunately we all like Mexican
cooking. I am particularly fond of their
frijoles. Just a line before we start, for I know that I
shall not feel like writing en route. It is a most
beautiful morning and we are all starting off in
hopeful spirits.
A few days later. The days have passed by quickly and the trip
so far has not been disagreeable, although
not interesting as the country is flat and dusty.
The Mexican towns are dirty and most
monotonous, so that we have preferred
sleeping on the ground away from the villages. Two days later. While it is fresh in my mind I must write
down the remarkable experience which we had
yesterday. It was late in the afternoon, we had
driven all day without seeing a habitation of any
kind, or heard a sound, or seen any living thing,
when we suddenly heard in the distance a weird
sound, and as we approached the direction from
which it came, we could distinguish human
voices, singing with great fervor a religious
chant. Then there appeared from behind the
underbrush a low adobe hut, and from this hut
came the voices. My daughter begged to be
allowed to enter the hut. Her father, who is ever
ready to grant any wish of hers, the more so if
it shows
courage, consented, thinking that in this
instance it might be an act of devotion. We
stopped the carriage some distance away,
fearing that the noise of our approach might
disturb those who were attending some
religious rite. As the girl disappeared over the
threshold, we all thought how ethereal she
looked, more like a vision than a reality in her
simple white muslin. She is very fair, her long
hair is golden, falling in curls down her back,
then her beautiful eyes are a heavenly blue! As
she entered the hut we all held our breath. I was
inclined to be provoked with her father for
letting her go, for though tall for her age she is
nothing more than a child. After waiting some
time, I became anxious, and asked one of the
men of the party, who speaks Spanish, to go
after her. When they joined us we saw that they
were both very much moved and overcome by
something that had happened. When we were
able to be alone with Mr. Cushing he told us of
the very remarkable scene that he had witnessed
on entering the hut. When the
child first went into the hut about twenty dark
swarthy Catholic Indians were there, down on
their knees, praying with extraordinary fervor
to the Virgin. The child, feeling no fear, went to
the middle of the room before they noticed
her, and when they looked up and saw her, it
happened that just at that moment a ray of
sunshine fell upon her, and as they had never
seen so fair a person before, they took her for a
vision come to them in answer to their prayer.
They crawled on hands and knees to her, kissing
the hem of her garment. The child put her
hands on their black swarthy heads and prayed
that some day God would allow her to devote
her life to the uplifting of the poor and
suffering ones of this world, such as these. It
has evidently made a great impression upon
her, and I pray with all my heart that her prayer
may be answered, and that she will feel the
responsibility that all good women should feel
in the use of the great power that is given to us
to be an influence for good in a woman's way
on all who came in contact with us.
We had hardly recovered from the excitement
of the visit to the hut, when three days
afterwards we met on the road a very handsome
young Mexican, wearing the picturesque
costume usually worn by the swells of the
country, consisting of a light-colored cloth
suit, with trousers rather large at the feet,
and many rows of buttons down the side; the
jacket had also brass buttons and was elaborately
embroidered. With this they wear the
national sombrero. His saddle and bridle
were richly ornamented with gold and silver,
and the saddle-blanket heavily embroidered in
gold and silver to match. Some time after he
had passed us, we saw him returning at full
gallop with something blue in his hand which
he waved at us. We stopped, and when he
drew his horse up by the side of the carriage
he pressed the blue veil that he held in his
hand, first to his lips and then to his heart, and
with a profound bow handed it to Clarice,
looking at her with the most intense
admiration. She was so overjoyed at recovering
her veil, that she was very profuse in her
thanks - and not knowing where to stop for the
night, we asked his advice. As it was late in the
afternoon, he advised us not to go on much
further; as a mile or two beyond was the gate to
his ranch he begged that we would accept of his
hospitality for the night, or for many days,
weeks or months, saying that every moment
that we honored his home with our presence
would be to him a joy and happiness beyond
words. We declined his most pressing and generous
invitation with many thanks and proceeded on
our way. We passed his gate, and drove some
distance further on; as the road was in good
condition and it was a beautiful night, we were
glad of the chance to drive as late as possible.
We found a good place, and settled ourselves
for the night; being very tired we were all
sleeping when the noise of
approaching horses awoke us. It was our young
Mexican; he had two carriages, each drawn by
four horses, and had come to fetch us to a
dance that he was giving to the beautiful
Señorita. While very profuse in his apologies
he was very earnest in his determination to
have us go with him. My husband finally
consented to let the young people go, as Mr.
Cushing was willing to go with them. They
returned as the day was dawning, and gave a
most enthusiastic account of the house, the
great courtesy and politeness of their host and
of his mother, whom they described as a most
charming woman, who received them very
cordially, as did all the girls and young men. It
must have been a most beautiful entertainment,
as the patio (which all Mexican houses have)
was illuminated, and with all the flowers and
wonderful plants, was an enchanting sight. If Clarice had accepted all the things the
young Mexican offered her (including his heart
and his hand) she would have found it difficult
to have brought them with her.
He begged permission to write to her, and
assured her that he would never forget her - and
would go to Paris to see her. MATAMORAS. The days following the dance were
uneventful, nothing happening of any interest
until we reached here, when it was with a great
sigh of relief that we entered this very
unpromising town, for it meant to us the end of
our wearisome and long journey. We had our
usual experience of driving around in search of
rooms, and were feeling very discouraged as
every available place was full, when my husband
met someone whom he had known in New
Orleans. On hearing of our difficulties, he
kindly offered to give us the use of a room at
the back of a shop, where his clerks slept in
cots such as the soldiers use. When my husband
asked him, "What will they do?" "Oh," he said,
"they can sleep on the counters of the shop." We
were not very cordially received by these young
men when they were told that they had to
move out and give us the use of their not very
luxurious quarters, though these were little
better than the shop would be. The partition
between the two rooms is only of paper, not
meeting the wall on either side by several
inches. This makes it rather difficult as the
occupants of both rooms must avoid the sides
while dressing. We have the cots as close
together as possible in the middle of the room,
and the girls dress standing on theirs. All
conversation must be scrupulously avoided; we
were constantly calling out to our neighbors,
warning them of our near presence, which they
occasionally forgot. Our baths we take in the patio; it is not quite
such a struggle with difficulties as we had in
Lareda. For among these. young men there are
two or three Englishmen who have made a very
decent bathroom on the side of the patio,
where they can have their "tub" very
comfortably, and they have graciously given us
the use of it during certain hours of the day.
We have reached
that condition of mind that nothing disturbs us
very much; fortunately, most of the party are
young; they only see fun in it, and I
unconsciously imbibe some of their youthful
spirits! We take our meals at a most excellent
restaurant where our long privation from good
food enables us to appreciate and do justice to
the well-prepared dishes by a first-class French
chef. We have been so long removed from all
contact with the outside world that to be once
more in touch with it, and hear of the events
that have taken place, makes me feel as though I
had been asleep, and all the terrible scenes and
suffering that I have gone through might be
some hideous nightmare. Oh! if I could only
awake and find it so. My darling boy alive,
Richard out of prison, and feel that I could go
back to our dear old home, with our loved ones
around us once more. But I must not allow myself to dwell on my
own sorrows, for it unnerves me and unfits me
for my duty to others - my husband needs all
the help and comfort that I can
give him, my other children all the love and
devotion that I can bestow upon them. Should it
not be our first duty as well as our pleasure to
make those we love and all those we come in
contact with happy? With all my sorrows, I am
thankful that one distress has been spared me,
and that is the feeling of remorse, and I pray
God that it may never enter into my life. It seems to me that it must be the most
terrible of all sufferings to know that we have
neglected or failed in our duty to some loved
one who has been taken from us. What a
terrible memory it would be to have caused
them pain or have been unkind and unjust to
them when they depended upon us for their
happiness. How dreadful to have turned away
from them seeking our own selfish pleasures,
forgetting how they need our love and
sympathy - anything but that in my life. There
is no sacrifice too great that I would not gladly
make for those I love, so that when God calls
them from me there will be only sweet
memories of the happy, loving
life that we have had together, and the
joyous sound of their voices, and the looking
back of their dear faces will always be with me,
and there will be no bitterness in the parting. We have been watching with great interest
the development of a love affair. One of the
French officers attached to Maximilian's staff
has fallen in love with Belle. He first saw her at
the restaurant as his table was directly opposite
ours. We noticed that he was always there when
we went in, and stayed until we left, watching
Belle most admiringly. Then she found
beautiful flowers at her place, and finally he
asked to be presented - but that was the night
before we were leaving for Bagdad, at the
mouth of the Rio Grande, as we set sail for
Havana. BAGDAD. This is the worst place that we have seen;
the so-called hotel is only an old boat, it might
have been a canal boat dragged ashore, with
the bunks made into beds for those who
were unfortunate enough to have to stop here
over night. We were not surprised on our
arrival to find that our friend the French
officer, Count de Sombreuil, had preceded us,
and had brought fruit, flowers, and many things
that added much to our comfort. After we had
dined together, and had gone to our rooms in
the upper part of this extraordinarily
constructed house, we heard strains of very
sweet music under our windows; in our haste to
look out, we forgot the large earthen jars filled
with water that are kept in all Mexican
windows. We had four windows in a room,
each of us went to a window, and as we did so
we knocked over the jars; so the contents of
the four large jars went down in a stream on the
heads of the musicians; while it was entirely
accidental, it really seemed as if they were
knocked over by agreement, as it was
simultaneous. This stream of cold water
cooled their ardour, for instantly they stopped
playing, no more music was heard, and this
morning we were not surprised to hear that the
Count had left, as it was he who serenaded
Belle. I doubt if we ever hear from him, or see
him again. This place is really nothing more than a
stretch of sand with a few wretched huts on it,
and to give it such an important name is
ridiculous. No ships can come up to it, so that
it is not even a harbor. They have come to tell us that the sailing
vessel on which we are going to Havana has
arrived outside the bar, and that we must cross
this terrible bar, which is very rough, in small
sailing boats, and that we shall probably got a
thorough soaking. As we have no good clothes
to spoil, we don't feel so badly about it. The
boats are ready, so I must stop! On board sailing vessel. What a terrible experience we have had, it
was not a case of getting soaked once, but
many times. It was difficult after being
engulfed by a great wave to know for a moment
or two if we were still in the boat or thrown
out into the water; it is marvelous
MEXICAN WATER JARS
how we ever got across without one of us
being drowned. Then came the great difficulty
of getting on board of this vessel; we had to
wait until a wave would lift us to the
side of it, then take our turn in being hauled up
to the deck by the sailors in any way by which
they could get a good hold upon us. Their grip
was so rough as to send us rolling
over the deck, and I am not sure but what some
of us were taken by the hair of our heads,
judging from our disheveled condition. But we
lost all thought of ourselves in our great
anxiety about James; it seemed impossible to
get him on board, he is so heavy, weighs two
hundred and twenty-five pounds. After several
unsuccessful attempts the sailors put a rope
around his waist and under his arms and hoisted
him on board by the means of a pulley, but it
took time and patience to accomplish it. I was
terribly afraid the ropes might slip or break, or
he might be injured in some way; it was such a
relief when they finally got him safely on
board. We have changed our clothes, everything
we had
on is ruined. While they were not of any value,
they were an important part of our scanty
wardrobe. It is a most lovely afternoon, only the sea is
rough, but it has cleared since we came on
board. We cannot help but wonder why the
vessel does not start, as we were told we must
be on board before noon, so that she could sail
at one o'clock, and now the sun is setting, and
we have not started. There are only four cabins.
We are the only passengers and my husband
thought that he had taken them all. He was very
much surprised to know that one had been
reserved for a French officer, and that the
vessel was waiting for him. He had sent a large
sum of money to the captain to remain until he
could go to Matamoras and obtain a leave of
absence; if successful, he would return before
sunset. We are all excitement about his
coming, for we realize that it is Belle's
admirer, and we are rather relieved to know that
he left Bagdad before his musicians received
their drenching. The sun is down, and the
captain only agreed to
wait for him until night, as he would then have
had sufficient time to go to Matamoras and
return, if he had obtained his leave. It is dark! and he has not come, so we are
sailing.
Our first day on board. This small but comfortable sailing vessel is
owned by the Captain, who is a splendid type of
a Norseman, and evidently looks upon his ship
as his most precious possession, and speaks of
it as though it was the love of his life. The day
after we left he came to the cabin with a letter,
which he gave my husband. It was from the
Count to Belle, and was to be given to her in
the event of his not being able to sail with us.
In this letter he tells her of his great love for
her, and his intention of following her to Paris,
when he hopes to win her love and marry her. We are thoroughly enjoying the sea trip,
being good sailors; we don't in the least mind
an occasional squall, which is to be expected at
this season of the year in the Gulf of Mexico.
We have had some heavenly
days, with smooth sea and wind enough to fill
the sails, so that we go skimming over the
water like a bird. The nights are beautiful, and
with a temperature that makes it delightful on
deck, so that we are tempted to spend most of
the night there, and rarely go down to our
cabins until very nearly dawn. Captain Hansen
is so pleased at our appreciation of his dear
ship that there is nothing he will not do for us -
we shall be almost sorry to reach Havana.
There is certainly something very fascinating
about a sailing vessel, when the wind is
favorable and the sails are full, and you feel
yourself gliding rapidly over the water, with no
motion or vibration of machinery; one has the
sensation of flying. We grudge the days as they
pass by, for it has been such a complete rest
for us, and we are all feeling greatly benefited
by it. This is our seventh day. The Captain tells us
that to-morrow we shall see the shores of
Cuba, but unless we have a favorable wind we
shall not be able to enter the harbor, as
it is necessary for us to do so before the sunset
gun fires; otherwise we must stay outside until
morning. HAVANA, We were very unlucky yesterday in having a
head wind so that we were tacking all day in
sight of Havana, and just missed by a few
minutes being able to enter the harbor before
the gun fired. This morning we entered soon
after sunrise, and what a wonderfully beautiful
sight greeted us! We were well repaid for
having got up at the break of day, for as the sun
rose there gradually came out of the mist, first
the picturesque old fort, then the city with its
various-colored houses surrounded by gardens
of tropical vegetation and flowers, then the
outline of the tops of the feathery palms
against the gradually reddening sky, making a
picture never to be forgotten. One hates to
think that this very picturesque, quaint city may
all be changed some day with the introduction
of modern improvements and better sanitary
conditions,
HAVANA HARBOR
which I am sorry to say it sadly needs. While it
may become healthier, it will necessarily lose
much of its picturesqueness and foreign
appearance, and I hope they will not paint the
houses all the same color. There never was any vehicle so fascinating
as the Spanish volante, with its long shafts, and
peculiar swaying motion, and the postilion in
his gay and festive costume. They are nearly
always good-looking, and very polite. It was very hot coming from the ship; we had
a long dusty drive and were very thirsty; when
we reached the hotel we asked for a cool drink;
one of our friends advised us to try a pine-apple,
and we ordered some. Great was our
astonishment when we were given each a whole
pine-apple in a deep soup plate; they had been
peeled, and so tender were they that we only
had to use a fork in taking them apart (they are
never cut in slices). They were very cold and
perfectly delicious, so juicy that we had a plate
full of this cool and most refreshing liquid, sweet
enough not to need sugar. The fruit is entirely
different from what it is when picked green and
ripened en route. 2d day. Last night, as we were passing through one of
the dark passages of the hotel, we saw
approaching us a lady with the most beautiful
ornament, in her hair, of emeralds; they were
very brilliant, most unusually so! We were
desirous to see them in the light, so we
followed her into the drawing-room, but great
was our surprise, on entering the lighted room,
to find that she had nothing in her hair, which
was very black. We wondered what was the
matter with our eyes! Had we been dreaming?
We were so close to her that, had she taken off
the ornament, we must have seen her. We had
become so interested in her that we watched
her until she went out on the balcony where
there was no light. To our astonishment the
emeralds re-appeared in her hair, and were even
more brilliant than when we had first seen
them.
While we were in this bewildered state of
mind, a friend joined us, who had been living
for some time in Havana, and we appealed to
him for an explanation. With great amusement
he told us it was a beetle, a large edition of our
fire-fly, that in the dark gives out a brilliant
light which is green like an emerald. The ladies
wear them in a fine black net, which is pinned
into their black hair, and the beetle, being
black, does not show - even in a strong light. A week later. We have been reveling in the luxury of
shopping. James has given us carte blanche to
replenish our wardrobes; the many exquisite
thin materials that they have here are very
tempting, as they make lovely dresses. So our
days have been spent at dressmakers' and
lingerie shops. Some of the party had only the
dresses they wore ashore; the Custom House
officers were amazed at the emptiness of our
trunks, and at our general appearance as well.
However amused they may have been,
with the good manners of the Spanish they were
too polite to let us see it. It has been a great
pleasure to find here our old friend General
William Preston, whom we have known for
years; he is a very distinguished man, having
held with great honor many official positions,
and was representing this country at the Court
of Spain when the war broke out, when he
resigned and entered the diplomatic service of
the Confederacy. With him on his staff is
Captain Walter Fane. The General called his
attention to us, when we entered the dining-room
just after our arrival, and possessing a
keen sense of humor, our forlorn appearance
was too much for him, and he made most
unmerciful fun of us to the amusement of
everyone at his table. My daughter, it seems,
was the one who most attracted his attention,
and called forth his severest criticism. I am
afraid the poor dear child did look rather
ungainly and awkward, as her only dress was
made of a material that the sea air caused to
shrink several inches, bringing it up to her shoe-
tops. She
is an overgrown child, in size a woman, but in
all other ways so like a child with her lovely,
sweet, innocent face that I rather resented his
laughing at her and told General Preston so. He
consoled me by saying, "Just wait till she gets
some new clothes in which she will look so
lovely that Walter Fane will be down on his
knees to her." The General was right; the
beautiful new clothes have made a wonderful
difference. No more laughing remarks are
made, the young men are only too eager to be
presented, and no one more so than Walter
Fane. We are being tremendously fêted,
invitations of all kinds are received. While I
rarely ever go anywhere, I let Belle take
Clarice. Last night we went to the Opera to hear
Lucia, which was a great treat, as it has been so
long since we have heard any good music. The
Opera was well given, and the house very
attractive with the open boxes like the Opera
house in New Orleans, showing off to great
advantage the toilets of the handsome women.
Belle created quite a sensation; I never saw
her look handsomer and more fascinating; she
had no end of admirers. Clarice was also very
lovely in her white dress, unconscious that she
was the object of much admiration, and no one
was more devoted to her than Walter Fane. We have been here three weeks, of which we
have enjoyed every moment, although it is very
hot. Like all Southerners we never go out in the
middle of the day, but take advantage of the
freshness of the early morning, going out again
after sunset. I can see that James is becoming
very impatient to get us away, as there is a
rumor that there is yellow fever in the hotel;
we know there is a great deal of it in the city. I
am not afraid of it for myself, but I am anxious
on account of Clarice. We are awaiting the
arrival of a coasting steamer, that is expected
here any day going directly to Liverpool, so we
are hoping to get away very soon.
CLARICE
AUGUST 1ST. The steamer has arrived and we go on board
to-morrow; we hear the most awful accounts of
her condition, that she is very dirty. James sent
his valet and my maid to clean our cabins, and
to make a list of what will be needed to make
us more comfortable. We are going to take a
large quantity of fruit and fresh vegetables, also
barrels of ice, as they have none on board.
From all accounts we shall have very poor
food. Our friends predict the most terrible
things for us, as the steamer has been for weeks
putting in at all the ports on the coast and
islands, without stopping for repairs or general
cleaning, but we cannot help ourselves; we
must leave here and take our chances, for I have
known since yesterday that there are cases of
yellow fever in the hotel. ON BOARD S. S. "ST. THOMAS."
Nothing we heard about this ship was in any
way exaggerated. Her condition is too awful!!!
dirty in every way. It was not a matter of one
day, but many days, before Jack and my maid
could clean our cabins so that we could sleep in
them. We have all slept on deck; the mattresses
or hammocks are brought up after dark, and we
do not go to the cabins in the morning until we
are driven down by the sailors, who, I am glad
to say, do wash the decks. Some of the crew
have died and been buried at sea. It seems that
at the last port where the ship stopped to coal
there was prevailing an epidemic of the worst
type of tropical fever, which is generally fatal;
not only numbers of the crew, but some of the
steerage passengers have died of it. All danger
of contagion will not be over for ten days,
indeed we shall not feel free from anxiety until
we get into the Atlantic, and sufficiently far
North to have cold weather. Nothing could be
worse than the food; fortunately we have the
fruit, vegetables, and barrels of ice that James
had put on board; also a friend of ours had all
the life boats filled with fruit and provisions of
all kinds that could be bought
in Havana to add to our comfort; without these
we should be in a very bad way. One rather amusing thing happened the day
we sailed. One of Clarice's friends asked her
what she would like to have on the voyage. She
replied, "Something to read." "Very well, I will
see that you have plenty of books," he added.
After we had sailed her father asked her what
was in the very large box addressed to her. She
opened it, and great was her surprise to find
two dozen most beautiful and very costly
books; but still greater was her astonishment to
see her father on reading the titles throw one
after the other into the sea. Her friend was
evidently not a scholar, and had simply given
the bookseller an order for twenty-four of the
most expensive and handsomely bound books
he had, regardless of the character or title of
them. Poor child! she was heart-broken to have
all her beautiful books (at least in appearance)
thrown into the sea.
I have not been able to write for many days,
as after we got out of the Gulf of
Mexico into the Atlantic, we have had terrible
weather, very rough seas, and high winds with
constant rains. The necessity of sleeping in our
cabins has been dreadful, we slept on deck even
when it rained and was most disagreeable;
anything seemed preferable to going down into
our stuffy, bad-smelling cabins; but when it got
very rough the Captain refused to allow us to
remain above as he thought it was not safe. It is two weeks to-day since we sailed, and if
all goes well we may reach England in ten days;
we are tremendously relieved that all danger of
taking the fever is over; in fact, we are all in
better health than when we sailed, particularly
since we have had cooler weather. Our dear friend General Preston is with us,
he is the life of the party, as he is always in a
good humor and full of fun; there are also
Captain Scott from Mobile, and Mr. and Mrs.
Goldenell, an American married to an
Englishwoman, both of whom are very
agreeable and pleasant traveling companions,
and
one or two other passengers. It is very
fortunate that there are not many on board, as
the steamer has a limited number of cabins, and
the provisions, bad as they are, are getting very
low; each day we are reduced to one dish less.
They tell us that if we do not reach England
within a few days, we shall indeed be reduced
to very slim rations. We have exhausted our
supply of vegetables, fruit, and all other
provisions, and what our good friend had put in
the life boats for us was forgotten the first
storm we encountered, and until hours
afterwards when it was thought of, but it had by
that time been completely spoilt, as these
boats are not covered. SEPTEMBER 3RD. Land is in sight, and none too soon, for we
have heard rumors for the last ten days that the
ship is not in a seaworthy condition. Last night
she sprung a leak, and all hands worked at the
pumps during the night. There was no
immediate danger, as we had a perfectly
smooth sea and clear weather, but
there seems to be very little doubt in the minds
of the men that if we had encountered a storm
during the last days, the ship would have
foundered, and nothing could have saved us. It is
with feelings of great gratitude and rejoicing
that we see the land and know that we are in
reach of help if needed, and that we shall soon
be on shore. We are destined to experience
what short rations mean on ship-board as well
as when traveling across the wilds of Texas, for
our food has been portioned out to us in small
quantities these last ten days. We have
complained less than the other passengers,
owing to our former discipline in this respect
and have made rather a joke of it, laughing
unmercifully at the complaints and grumblings
of the others, to their indignation.
LIVERPOOL. Once more safely on shore, and to our great
joy and surprise our son Charles, with his very
pretty and attractive young wife, met us on our
arrival. My nieces, who are to me as though
they were my children, are here also, so it is
like a home-coming for us poor weary
travelers. With our English ancestors and
traditions, England must be to those coming
from the Southern States like the mother
country; apart from this, we feel that in their
hearts the English people sympathize with us in
our struggle for freedom, and would like to
have us succeed, even if they do not openly
declare so. We are comfortably settled in lodgings such
as you find only in England, where you have all
the comforts and privacy of home, without the
responsibilities. The landlady probably
has lived for years with one of the great
families, and is an excellent cook. She married
the butler, and they set up an establishment for
themselves. It all seems very peaceful and
delightful, making us feel as though we had,
indeed, reached a safe harbor after so much
traveling, and the many hardships, dangers, and
difficulties that we have had to endure. Dear old England, how I love it! with its
centuries of civilization and traditions, making
every place one of great historical interest.
How little one can appreciate the English
people until you have visited, and learned to
know them, in their comfortable and beautiful
homes. It is there that you see the English
gentleman at his best, and on his country
estates he is always a most cordial and
charming host. The Englishwoman, who is
generally shy and more reserved than we are,
becomes gracious, and does the honors of her
home with great simplicity and charm. This
well-regulated and delightful life is a great
contrast to what it is in a new country,
where much is crude and often almost
barbarous, with its vulgar money estimate of
everything. I am afraid my husband is right
when he calls me a born aristocrat. I cannot
help it! I love the refinement and well-established
customs of old countries, with the
well-regulated routine of domestic life such as
exists here. Some weeks later. After a most delightful visit to Leamington,
where we went to attend the wedding of my
cousin, who married Dr. How of Baltimore, we
spent a few days at Stratford-on-Avon, and saw
all that was interesting there, and also Warwick.
We have had a most enjoyable trip, and were
very loath to leave England. It was necessary,
however, for us to come here, as my husband
wishes to see us settled for the winter, and find
a school for Clarice before he leaves to return
to Mexico, where he has large interests. We are indulging in the great pleasure
that all women feel, when they can shop in
Paris. The things we bought in Havana are not
suitable for the winter climate here, and they
do not seem to us quite so wonderfully
beautiful as they did when we bought them. I
think we are becoming more fastidious and
difficult to please than we were on reaching
Havana. PARIS, Beautiful, fascinating Paris! But with all its
brightness and the splendor that exists under
the third Empire, it does not appeal to me; my
heart goes back to England. However, I know
that I must stay here for the winter on account
of Clarice. We are looking for an apartment;
while we have seen many, none of them are
suitable, so few are even clean, and as yet we
have not seen one with a bathroom. A curious thing happened last night while we
were at the theater, just before the close of the
piece. During the last act we noticed
A REVIEW DAY UNDER THE EMPIRE
a man who had been for some time looking
steadily at our box through his opera-glass, but
as he stood in a passage where there was very
little light, this prevented us from seeing his
face. On coming out we thought we saw in the
crowd our friend the French officer of
Matamoras. It seemed so unlikely that we
dismissed the idea as being improbable. In the
course of a few days we found out that we were
not mistaken, as he was the man who had been
looking so long at Belle, and followed us to
our hotel. The next day he came to the hotel
and bribed Jack (my husband's valet) to tell him
our plans; on hearing that we were looking for
an apartment, he gave Jack the address of one,
and told him to be sure and have us go to look
at it. When he went home to his mother, he
informed her that an American family were
coming to look at the apartment that she
wanted to let, and that she must allow them to
have it on their own terms as it meant
everything to him and his future happiness.
This apartment was a part of a large and
very handsome private house of a French lady
of high rank and wealth. It was not only
beautiful, and very handsomely furnished, but it
was perfect in all of its appointments, as it had
been furnished for her only daughter at the time
of her marriage. The son-in-law having recently
received a foreign appointment, she was left
alone in this enormous house with her bachelor
son, and as he was in the army, he was
frequently away for long intervals. The dear old
lady, with the usual French thought of
economy, had the idea that if she could find
some desirable people who would be congenial
to her, she would be willing to rent this part of
her house. Her son impressed upon her that it
was most important for her not to give her real
name to these Americans that were coming
until they had decided to take the apartment,
and it became necessary to do so. When we
called to look at the apartment the next day,
Count de Sombreuil having told his mother that
we were very wealthy, she had at once the
thought of a possible rich American
daughter-in-law, so she did not hesitate to
make such terms as would be acceptable to us. Of course, we were more than pleased with
the spacious and beautiful apartment on the
ground floor, the large salon opened out onto
a most lovely garden where there was a fountain,
and great profusion of flowers, servants
in handsome livery an every appearance of
great wealth. We were simply amazed when
told the price of it, and all that we should
have, even the use of one of the old lady's
carriages and horses, also twice a week seats
in her box at the Opera. We thought it much too good a bargain to
miss, so James said he would not take it
for less than a year. The old lady agreed most
willingly to let us have it for any length of
time that we should want it. The next day
we moved in, and great was our surprise on
looking out into the garden to see our friend
the French officer walking with the old lady
as though it was his home. In the afternoon
he sent to ask permission to call on us, and
explained that the lady was his mother, the
Countess de Sombreuil. As the French Army
had been withdrawn from Mexico he was able
to leave almost immediately after we left, but
he could not reach Bagdad in time to sail with
us. Clarice, with a child's frankness, said to
him, "Oh! Count, I hope you did not get very
wet when the water poured down on the
musicians at the time of the serenade." He
laughed heartily and replied, "My dear young
friend, I had left before it happened," which
confirmed what we had heard. NOVEMBER. We have been in our luxurious quarters just a
month; nothing could exceed the kindness and
generosity of the dear old Countess, and the
devotion and many kind acts of the Count. The
Countess sends in every morning to know what
hour we should like to have the carriage, and
Belle has been several times to the Opera with
her. I have found an excellent school in the
neighborhood for Clarice, where she boards
during the week; but spends Saturday and
Sunday with us. Madame Hoffman, who is at
the head of the school, came to see me in a
great state of excitement, as she said that while
walking in the Bois with the girls of the school,
the Emperor, seeing Clarice, was so struck
with her beauty that he sent one of his aide-de-camps
to inquire of the teacher (who was in
charge of the girls) the name and address of the
young girl. Madame Hoffman is very unhappy
about it, but I cannot imagine that anything
serious will come of it; the Emperor has
probably forgotten all about her - she is such a
child! A few days later. I have been very much upset by receiving an
invitation to be present with my daughter at the
next reception to be given at the Palace of the
Tuileries. I have declined to go on account of
my deep mourning, and refused for Clarice on
the score of her being too young. Since my
refusal to attend the reception at the Palace of
the Tuileries, the
Emperor has had Clarice asked to a small
entertainment for young people, to be given at
the Palace of one of the Court officials, and it
is known that he intends to be present. After
consulting friends as to what I should do, they
advise me to take her away from Paris for the
present, as the admiration of the Emperor is
something for a young girl to avoid rather than
seek, so I am going to take Clarice to London
for a few weeks; it is very annoying, as it takes
her away from her studies. A month later. I remained away only ten days, as I really had
to bring Clarice back to her studies. I shall
simply not allow her to go where there is any
chance of the Emperor seeing her again. All Paris is going mad over the beautiful
young Swedish prima donna, Christine Nilsson.
Clarice came home a few days ago very much
excited, as the evening before Christine had
dined with the girls at the
NAPOLEON III
school; she was visiting the daughter of the
Swedish Minister, who is there as one of the
scholars. According to the rules of the school,
when a visitor dines with the girls, she is
allowed to select one of them to be her
hostess, besides the one whose guest she is.
The girl selected is to be the hostess of the
evening, and must fill that role by making
herself agreeable, and graciously doing the
honors of the occasion. The girls were all standing in their places
when Christine entered the dining-room, each
one eagerly hoping in her heart to be the
chosen one. After looking up and down the line
of girls with their eager faces, she walked up to
Clarice and said: "You fair young creature, I
want you." This was the beginning of a strong
friendship between the two that bids fair to last
for a long time. As great a pleasure as this
friendship is to Clarice, I think I have even
more pleasure from it, as Christine is very
sweet and kind in coming to sing; whenever she
has the spare time, she very generously gives
me the benefit
of it, and it is a rare treat, for I am a great
lover of music, and being in mourning I do not
go to the Opera. Apart from her voice, she has a
charming personality, with great beauty; her
coloring is wonderful, her hair very golden,
large blue eyes, and the fair skin that usually
goes with such hair and eyes. She is very
simple, and has a lovely nature, spontaneous and
like a child. She radiates sunshine and happiness
on all who come in contact with her. I am very
grateful to her for the brightness and cheer that
she has brought into my sad life, and the great
enjoyment that I have had from her music. She
has not been singing very long in Opera, as she
has only recently made her debut in "La
Traviata," when she sent Clarice a box to hear
her. They tell me the child was so excited that it
was all they could do to keep her from falling
out of the box. Our colony of Americans from the Southern
States is not a large one, but we are drawn all
the closer together, in our anxiety and sorrow
regarding the sad events that are
CHRISTINE NILSSON
taking place in our section of the country. What
we hear in regard to the treatment of the
prisoners on Johnson's Island, makes us very
anxious about Richard. We are hoping daily to
hear that he has been exchanged; we have
written begging him to apply at once for leave
so that he may join us, for I am sure that he
must be suffering from the effects of his long
imprisonment, now nearly twenty months; for
one who is not very strong, the long
confinement and lack of proper food must have
had serious effect upon him. It is Belle who brightens our lives and fills
them with interest; her great charm and
personal fascination draw around her a most
interesting and clever set of people of all
nationalities. In her salon are met men of fame,
statesmen, diplomatists, high officials of the
Court and Government; they meet there to
discuss the important political and current
events of the day; she is the brilliant center of
all with her quick wit and marvelous gift of
language. The occasional opportunities
given to Clarice, when she is at home on
Saturday and Sunday, to meet these
distinguished men and scholars, who are
making the history of the day, is greatly
appreciated and enjoyed by her. I hope that it
may prove a liberal education for her, and
cultivate in her an interest in higher and more
serious subjects than young girls of her age
usually care for, the influence of which she will
feel all throughout her life. It is very easy to
entertain in these handsome and attractive
rooms, with the generous assistance of the
Countess, who not only fills them with the
greatest variety of beautiful plants and flowers
from her conservatory, but insists upon our
having all of her men servants in their gorgeous
livery. This makes a great impression upon our
Southern friends. One of our naval officers
came the other night, and seeing this evidence
of great wealth and the beautiful surroundings,
when one of the men offered to help him with
his coat, said: "No, I have made a mistake, this
cannot be where my friends are living, we
Southerners cannot
afford to live like this." But on the assurance of
the servant that we did live there, he came in,
and was shown into my sitting-room, where I
receive a few of my personal friends, as I never
go into the large salon on these occasions. I
could not help but be amused at his evident
disapproval of our surroundings and way of
living; he took it so seriously that I had to
explain to him how it all happened. SPRING OF 1865. The winter is over and the spring has come
with all of its glorious beauty; nowhere could
it be more wonderful than in Paris, all the
broad streets have such splendid avenues of
trees, I believe that no city in the world can
boast of so many. I have heard the number
estimated as high as four hundred thousand,
making a veritable forest. Then Paris with all
its attractions has, in addition, many enchanting
and interesting places nearby that one can
reach in a short time, and there spend a most
delightful day; such are St. Cloud,
Versailles, St. Germain, where not only is the
country beautiful, but there is so much that is
historically interesting to see. To me the Bois
is an endless source of amusement. What could
be more enchanting than it is, with its wealth of
flowers and avenues of acacia (when in bloom),
and beneath them long lines of carriages of all
kinds are ever passing; those of the Court with
their glittering horses and outriders, also those
of the French beauties in their marvelous
toilets, and combined with the varied and bright
uniforms of the officers, they make a brilliant
and ever-changing throng of people to watch.
But of all this splendid pageant the person who
interests me most is the Empress Eugénie. I
always feel a thrill when I see her, for she is
really most beautiful - graceful, and with
something about her that is intensely
sympathetic. The sweet smile with which she
always greets the people as she passes by,
never fails to fascinate those who come under
her spell. She is one of those rare persons who
is beautiful under all circumstances; with
THE EMPRESS EUGÉNIE
her marvelously perfect figure, and being a
remarkably good rider, she is simply stunning
on horseback. At night in ball dress, with her
wonderful coloring, she is a vision of
loveliness. Then she moves with that ease and
grace peculiar to the Spanish race; no nation
possesses it quite to the same degree. One of
the many stories that they tell of her is, that on
the occasion of a great fête at St. Cloud, before
the Emperor had asked her to marry him, she
was present wearing a wonderful Parisian
creation of lace and muslin, such as only they
can make, and in it she looked her loveliest.
While leaning over to peer into a basin of water
surrounding one of the great fountains, she lost
her balance and fell in. The Emperor came to
her rescue. According to the story, she was
thoroughly drenched and, her garments being of
very thin and transparent material, clung to her
in such a way as to show to great advantage the
outlines of her faultless figure. If the Emperor
had any doubt in his mind about asking her hand
in marriage this removed it, for the following
day the engagement was announced.
There are such conflicting accounts about her,
she has her ardent admirers and devoted
followers, and from these you hear nothing but
what is in her praise - they tell you that she is
most charitable, kind, and good. Being myself
one of her greatest admirers I prefer to believe
all the good that I hear of her, and will not
listen to any other account of her. We hear from America there is a rumor that
the prisoners of Johnson's Island are going to
be exchanged. God grant that it may be so, and
that when free, Richard may be given a leave of
absence and join us here; this anxiety, and not
being able to hear from him, is terrible. A month later. Not our hopes, but our worst fears are
realized. It is a sad story to relate; until to-day I
could not write it, but perhaps it may help me if
I do so. General Grant did what he could for
our brave boy, he sent an order that when the
prisoners were released, instead of Richard
going up to be exchanged with the other
prisoners from Johnson's Island, he was to be
brought to him; but by some misunderstanding
of the order, Richard was allowed to go with
the others. He heard those ahead of him have
their names called, and as each responded he
was detailed for exchange; when his name came
and he answered, a Federal officer touched him
on the shoulder and said, "No, you come with
me." Poor dear boy! fearing that he was going
to be taken back to prison again, he fainted;
owing to his weak condition from the want of
proper food, and the long confinement, he had
not the strength to bear the disappointment and
shock that it gave him. It was some time before
he recovered consciousness, and when he did,
great was his astonishment to find himself in
General Grant's tent. He kept Richard with him
for several days until he was stronger and had
recovered from the effects of the shock that he
had received. General Grant did all that he
could for him; realizing his weak condition, and
knowing
how we longed to see him, he begged Richard
to come to Europe on parole, offering to be
responsible for him and to give him his parole
until the end of the war. General Grant knew
only too well that our army could not hold out
much longer against the hordes of Germans and
other nationalities that were being enlisted in
the Northern army in large numbers, too great
for our reduced army to fight against. With the
blockade of our ports, and no outside help
possible, boys of fifteen and younger taking the
place of the older men as they fell, it meant
that the end was not far off, when we must lay
down our arms and accept the inevitable
consequences of defeat. The more the General
tried to impress these conditions upon my
brave boy, the more keenly he felt that his duty
was to join his comrades; it was not a moment
when he could desert the cause of his country
in its death struggle, when every man counted
for so much. He said, "Oh! no, General, I must
go, and with my brave companions defend our
cause to the end. Greatly
tempted as I am to accept your generous offer
and join my poor father and mother, knowing
how they have suffered and that they need all
the consolation which I might be able to give
them, my sense of duty to the cause I have
espoused makes it impossible for me, while I
fully appreciate what you have offered to do for
me, to accept it. Remember, we are of the same
blood. Would you do differently if you were in
my place?" "No," he replied. "Then, I beg of
you," said Richard, "have me exchanged." But
the General sent him under a flag of truce to
Richmond. Only a few days after reaching
there, before he received his appointment, he
was taken ill with pneumonia. In his weak
condition there was no hope of his recovery
from the first. He was fortunately staying in the
house of a dear friend, Miss S. L. Bayne, who
nursed him with the greatest devotion all during
his illness. With him also was Joe Denegre of
New Orleans, a very dear comrade and friend of
his, one with whom he had been closely
associated from the
beginning of the war until he was taken
prisoner. It was in his arms that Richard passed
away. I have many letters about him, the one from
General Grant expresses great sympathy for us,
and admiration of Richard's courage and high
sense of honor. Much as he wanted him for my
sake to accept the parole and urged him to do
so, he was glad he refused, and he loved the
boy for faithfully fulfilling his duty to the
cause he had so much at heart. What a sad little colony we are! with the
continual succession of bad news telling of
one disaster after another until we are in
despair. Apart from my own overwhelming
sorrows are those that we all suffer together in
our great anxiety in regard to the fate of our
loved ones who are struggling in vain against
such fearful odds. How much longer can they
hold out is the question we ask each other, but
the answer is read in the sad faces around us,
for we all know in our hearts that the end is
near.
A few days later. All hope is over! Richmond fell on the 3d of
April, and Lee surrendered on the 9th, six days
afterwards, so this dreadful war is over!!!
What a useless sacrifice of life it has been,
what untold suffering it has brought to the
thousands of broken-hearted mothers and
wives! to say nothing of the ruined homes and
desolation of a once rich and productive part
of the country. General Grant in his treatment of General
Lee when he surrendered was worthy of the big-
hearted and just man that he is; the utterance of
those simple but ever-touching words, "Let us
have peace," ought to make him dear to all
Americans, North and South. It will take time
to enable us to adjust ourselves to the
inevitable, and the process of reconstruction of
the States, I fear, will be long and tedious. It
will be in the hands of such just men as
President Lincoln and General Grant that we
must trust our fate. In the agony of our own
sorrows, every heart goes out in love and
sympathy for our noble and
great hero General Lee. Never was a man so
dear to the hearts of his people, adored by his
troops, who willingly laid down their lives at
his feet. In his hour of misfortune he will rise
to greater heights than those who are
victorious, his word is law for us, we accept his
surrender as the noblest proof of his greatness
and unselfish love for his poor, half-clothed,
starving little band of heroes, who became such
from his brave example, and were loyal to him
to the last hour. A few days later. Our sorrows and misfortunes are never to
cease. I can see only dark, terrible days ahead
of us in consequence of the awful assassination
of President Lincoln. Coming at this time it is
the greatest misfortune, and will be more
disastrous in its effect upon the South than
anything that could have happened. What a
madman Booth was not to realize this! and it is
terrible to think of the many innocent people
that are going to be made to suffer in
consequence of his mad and
unjustifiable act. This awful crime cannot be
wiped out by the hanging of Booth only, I fear
others will be made to pay very dearly for it; if
not with their lives, it will be in other ways of
suffering and humiliation. I am sure that all just
and fair-minded Southerners feel that. Had
Lincoln lived, aided by the conciliatory policy
of General Grant, the reconstruction of the
States could have been brought about with less
difficulty, and on far better terms and
conditions for us than can be hoped for now.
The bad feeling that President Lincoln's
assassination will arouse against us throughout
the North will make them want to show us little
mercy, and greatly complicate the settlement
of the difficult questions that we must all face.
God help us! Then the emancipation of the slaves. How is
that going to be dealt with? We who know
them, and have learned to love them and care
for them since we were children, cannot
foresee what their freedom will bring to them.
While I rejoice that they have it, I
pity them, for they are in no way prepared for it. I
cannot help but fear terrible conditions for those
who will have to depend upon negro labor for the
cultivation of their fields. I have faith in the older
ones taking it sensibly, and remaining in most
cases faithful in their allegiance to their owners,
from force of habit as well as sentiment, for they
have a strong sense of attachment; it is the
younger generation that will be demoralized and
corrupted by it. If the suggestion made during the
War by some of the largest slave-owners in the
South had been accepted, and adopted, it would
have been better. These wise men were in favor of
arming the negroes, putting them in the Southern
army, and at the same time giving them their
freedom. If it could have been done it might have
changed the conditions of the war, for I have not
the slightest doubt but that they would have fought
bravely under the command of their masters; not
in a single instance have I heard of their failing to
do so, when they have been in a battle with their
young masters. Often
THE TUILERIES IN 1880
have they been known to run great risks, and
shown great bravery in their efforts to save
their masters when they have been wounded
on the battlefield. I wish that they could
have been in some way educated or prepared
for freedom, before it was so suddenly
thrust upon them. The North has assumed
a tremendous responsibility; I hope that they
will prove themselves equal to it, and treat
this race of people with a firm, just, and
discriminating policy; otherwise they will be-
come an evil and menace to the welfare of
the country. I cannot help but wonder what our slaves
will do when told that they are free. I am
sure that they will all want to go back to the
plantation, for they hate Texas and long to
return to the sugar-cane and warmth of
Louisiana. James has written to the over-
seer to give them the necessary money to take
them back if they wish to go.
Several months later. The conditions in our part of the country are
still very unsettled, the events of the last
months indicate clearly that the reconstruction
is going to be a long, tedious, and trying time
for the Southern States. We begin to feel that
we must go back, but it will be a sad home-coming,
without a home to go to. The family
circle is broken by the death of our boys, and
many dear old friends will be missing. Then we
are uncertain as to whether we shall be able to
save enough from the wreck of our fortune to
enable us to live even in a very modest way. It is
hard for my husband after a long life of success
in everything that he has ever undertaken, now
in his old age to have the wealth representing
years of hard and successful work swept away,
through no fault of his own. He is wonderfully
brave and plucky about it, and is anxious to go
back and begin to rebuild his fortune. But I see
a great change in him since Richard's death. I
have my doubts about his strength and health
enabling him
to do much more. The spirit is willing, but the
poor heart has suffered so much anxiety and
sorrow during those terrible four years that I
fear it has reached its limit. OCTOBER, 1865. The romance commenced in Matamoras,
resumed in Paris under rather extraordinary
circumstances, has ended in a marriage, which I
have reason to hope will be for the happiness
of both Belle and the Count. The wedding was a
very small one, owing to our deep mourning,
but all our little colony was present, as it was
the last time we shall see our friends. We bid
them farewell; tomorrow we leave Paris for
Liverpool, and shall sail from there to New
York. Count de Sombreuil has endeared
himself to us in many ways. He has never failed
in his devotion and sympathy for us during the
trying times that we have passed through while
living in his mother's house. The dear old
Countess, too, has been the same, full of
sympathy and kindness, ever ready to do anything
that she could for us. I am glad that she is
so delighted with the marriage. As the Count is
leaving the army, she no longer dreads the
possibility of being left alone in this beautiful
home, for it is understood that her son and his
wife are to live with her. I wonder if I shall have
the courage to resume my diary when I reach
New Orleans. Will it be to record painful
experiences, or will the conditions be better
than they promise at present? However, I shall
write no more until I get there. I bid farewell to you, my constant little
companion, and close your pages with regret,
for you have been a great help and consolation
to me, during these years of sorrow and many
trials.
My dear little Companion, When I closed you in Paris, I hardly
expected to confide in you so soon again, but
the habit has grown upon me, and now I cannot
resist writing up my experiences of these last
few months. They have seemed so unnatural
and strange that it is hard to adjust myself to
the new conditions of our life. I must go back and take up the threads of my
story, a few months before the close of the
War. Clarice, who seemed to us such a child,
but to others appeared considerably older than
her years, had two very devoted lovers, one of
whom was Walter Fane, a man of unusual
intellectual and scholarly gifts, well fitted for
the high diplomatic position that he held, and
to whose presence with us while in Havana I
have already referred. He followed us to Paris, and though much
older than my child, her father, who greatly
admired Captain Fane, felt that her happiness
and welfare would be secure in his keeping. The second suitor was Captain Scott, who
was also abroad on an important diplomatic
mission. From Paris we had gone to Liverpool, where
we received a letter from Walter Fane
imploring us to await his arrival there. He
expected to join us in three weeks' time, as he
was sailing at once from Havana for England. We waited impatiently and fearfully for
three long months. Finally all hope of seeing
him was abandoned, and the agents of the line
could only believe that the steamer must have
gone down in mid-ocean, as no trace of her
could be obtained. We then decided to sail for home on Sunday
by the steamer "Arabia," when lo, and behold,
who should walk in upon us three days earlier,
but Walter Fane, coming as one from the dead,
so amazed were we to see him. The steamer on which he had sailed from
Havana had had an accident to her machinery,
and had to resort to her sails only to be
becalmed and drift about the Gulf of Mexico
for six weeks! Finally they managed to hail a
passing steamer, the passengers were
transferred and enabled to continue their
journey to England. The disabled steamer was
subsequently towed to the nearest port. This
accounted for Walter Fane's three months'
disappearance from the world. Though my husband's preference was
undoubtedly for Captain Fane, he realized that
Clarice's extreme youth necessitated the
continuance of her studies for another year or
two, and therefore on his return to Mexico he
exacted, before leaving, a promise that she
would not, during his absence, accept any offer
of marriage from either of her two ardent
suitors. Captain Fane's proposal was not long
delayed. On hearing the condition imposed
upon us by my husband, he started post-haste in
pursuit of James to Mexico. Shortly afterwards
Captain Scott also declared his suit, and
receiving the same information,
started with the same eagerness for
Mexico. The night before he left, he called to
say good-by, and finding Clarice alone, he
pressed into her hand a tiny box, begging her to
open it only when she should hear the door
close behind him. He knew full well that I
should never have allowed the child to accept
its contents, had I seen them. Once out of the
house, no return of his gift could be possible,
as his intention was to leave by the night train
for Liverpool and to sail from there early the
next morning for Havana. His little farewell
present to my daughter was a ring containing a
diamond of large size and of great value. When Captain Scott reached Havana on his
way to Mexico, the first person whom he saw
on entering the hotel was his friend Fane, who
told him of his return from Matanzas. The
meeting between the two friends, while a
cordial one, was full of deep feeling and
emotion for both men. Captain Scott realized
that he must learn his fate from his rival, and
that if Fane had won so he had
THE WRITER OF THE DIARY
lost; while Fane, knowing the strong and
determined character of his friend, and what
the loss of the girl he loved would mean to
him, felt an intense sympathy and great sorrow
for the pain that he must inflict in
acknowledging his own engagement. What passed between the two friends when
they parted in Havana has never been told.
Captain Fane returned to England, while
Captain Scott has seemed to drop out of the
world. No one can tell us any news of him!
Rumor says that he has joined the British
Army. Note by the Editor. - Seventeen years later,
at a ball in New Orleans, whose setting was one
of the beautiful and typical old Southern
houses, a stranger among the guests was
unconscious of the attention that concentrated
upon him as he wandered through the spacious
rooms, indifferent, after a glance at many a
noted beauty, and evidently searching until the
evening was far spent for someone whom he
failed to find. Just as the
guests were leaving, he suddenly came face to
face with a tall, fair woman - and instinctively
knew, though he saw her sad and wistful
countenance for the first time, that she was the
object of his quest. Eagerly he inquired her name, and on hearing
it asked to be presented. After a few minutes'
conversation he said: "I have a message for
you, and I must speak with you alone." Much
surprised the lady followed him to a remote
corner of the conservatory, whereupon he
spoke hurriedly as follows: "My message is
from a dying man, who bids me tell you that he
has loved you all these years. Send him some
word in return that may comfort and sustain him
in his last hours." He then went on to tell her of her old friend
and lover Captain Scott, who had won honors
and distinctions for brave and gallant deeds on
the battlefields of many campaigns. Always a
most generous man, ever ready to help those in
need, he had given away and distributed
practically the whole
of his large fortune, and was reduced to actual
want himself without means of procuring any
comforts or luxuries in his last illness and
hours of distress. This story brought to the lady's face an
expression of great sorrow and pain. Evidently
she was no indifferent friend of the poor gallant
Captain Scott! On hearing finally of his poverty,
a curious expression of relief, almost of joy,
lighted up her face, as if she divined a source
from which help might come! Aloud, she
thanked the stranger for his message and said
that she had a souvenir which she would send his
friend, one that would surely be of help and
comfort. In her heart she thanked God that after
all these years, atonement might be made for
the suffering that she had innocently caused her
hapless lover. The ring he had given her would
prove like that of the Arabian Nights and bring
ease and plenty to its possessor. Next day her hand held out to the departing
stranger the precious little box that had
been placed there seventeen years before, by
the man who little dreamed what it was destined
to bring into his life at its close. From its sale
the poor invalid was surrounded with every
possible luxury and comfort, his very life being
prolonged for several months, and with a
blessing and a loving farewell for the woman
who had so benefited him, he died with her
name on his lips.] As we had made all our plans to sail for
home we could not alter them, even after
Walter Fane's surprising re-appearance in our
midst. He, however, decided to remain in
England, as it was understood that a strong
feeling prevailed against all those who had held
diplomatic appointments under the Confederate
Government. James was advised to enter New York under
an assumed name: he might have been a ready
mark for enmity, being so well known
throughout the country, a Northern man who
was also a Southern planter. The very reverse of our anticipations was
what actually happened on reaching our native
shores. Clarice very thoughtlessly put in the top
tray of her trunk a large bonbon box, from
Paris, of white satin emblazoned with two
crossed Confederate flags. When the Customs
Officer saw it, he looked quickly at the girl,
who proclaimed with ready pride, "It is mine!"
He replied, "Well, my young lady, it is
fortunate for you that I am delegated to open
your trunk. As it is you won't have trouble, for I
happen to love the South," whereupon he
quickly closed the lid. STATEN ISLAND, NEW YORK, We were met on our arrival by James'
cousin, David P. Morgan, who took us at once
to his beautiful home on Staten Island, where
we were most cordially welcomed by his dear
and charming wife, who was a daughter of
William Fellowes, an old friend of my husband
and a man who was very prominent both
socially and financially.
A short time after our return, James was
advised by his Northern relatives and friends to
go to Washington and take the oath of
allegiance. This he did! We were very loath to leave David and his
attractive wife and children; it was such a great
pleasure to us who had been so long wanderers
and aliens, to revive old friendships, renew old
associations, but alas! Our own home in New
York City, where it would have been such a
comfort to settle for our few remaining years
of life, had been sold while we were refugees in
Texas, needlessly sacrificed, as we now know,
in our absence, by an ill-advised friend. My
husband's friends are urging him to remain in
the North, particularly dear David, who is very
generously offering him most advantageous
conditions if he will join him in business. But
James feels that he must go South, and see what
can be done with the wreck of his possessions
there, with the responsibilities incurred there
and which he does not feel it right to shirk now
that that section of the
country is so distracted and distressed. What
remains of our farm near Louisville he has
given to our younger son Charles, but there is
unfortunately only a little left of the dear old
place, as it was used for the encampment of
Federal troops owing to its commanding
situation on the hills overlooking the Ohio
River, three miles distant from Louisville. This farm was the first property that James
had ever owned and was purchased in his early
youth. It was known as Rock Hill, and here all
our children were born, eleven, and only five
have outlived infancy! We spent our summers
here, the spring and fall in New York, the
winters on the plantation, so that our life has
always been full of movement and variety. James is a wonderful traveler, but he strictly
limits our wardrobes when we are en route
from one part of the country to the other. We
can have all the clothes we like, but we mustn't
be loaded with trunks, so we usually leave a
full trousseau in our bureaus
and closets and find or purchase another on our
arrival North or South. I loved Rock Hill best of my three dwelling-places.
It really meant home to me and to my
husband, who took a boundless pride in
beautifying both house and park. The latter was
well stocked with deer, who were never killed,
and in the course of many years they were very
plentiful and also very tame. At the sound of
carriages approaching along the driveway, they
would line up against the fence, and visitors
usually came provided with tit-bits to offer
these gentle-eyed sentinels, ready to eat out of
their hands with military precision. Poor dears!
They were all killed and eaten by the soldiers. NEW ORLEANS. Here we are back again in the dear old
Crescent City. It takes all our courage and
fortitude to face these new and strange
conditions of life. The inevitable consequences
of war are all about us, everyone is adrift,
social and business conditions are disorganized,
the permanence of home seems a
mockery. The one active trade that is
noticeable is the constant barter and sale of
jewels and silver plate to provide the family
with its daily market money. In Louisiana our
only home has been on the plantation. When in
the city we have always visited my sister, who
lived on Dauphine Street in the French Quarter
of the town. This home, like many others, has
now been completely broken up, so we must
find another as an abiding-place for our old
age. James makes to return to the plantation,
but his health is failing rapidly and the doctors
consider him quite unequal to the heavy task of
reorganizing the work as it must be done under
the new régime of the freed slaves. The
plantation must, therefore, be put up for sale.
What an irony of fate! For years he tried to
make up his mind to do this very act, but like
most planters he was under the strong
fascination of sugar-making, which has all the
elements of gambling. The likelihood of an
early frost which blights the cane, of a late
heat
during the grinding process which ferments the
juice, of uncertain climatic conditions at all
times in Louisiana, make it impossible to
calculate even approximately what the result of
the sugar-cane crop may be. On the other hand, exactly favorable
conditions may furnish an output that far
exceeds the most sanguine expectations. This
was actually the case, after years of trials and
disappointments, the first year of the War. The slaves have all returned to the plantation
from Texas and are most eager in their inquiries
"if ole Massa is coming back?" On hearing that
we are to make our home in New Orleans, all
the house-servants have descended upon us and
are practically encamped on the doorsteps,
clamoring to be allowed to return to their work
as usual. The question of their wages has never
been raised, they have only made one
stipulation, viz.: that when they die they are to
have "a gran' funeral," with all their friends
invited and lots of white cape jessamines to
cover "de
daid body." The funeral rites they lay great
stress upon; of the marriage ones they are
inclined to be somewhat negligent. The other day Black Betty, Clarice's maid,
walked in upon us with her two children, born
during slavery, and throwing her arms around
the girl said, "Miss Clarice, I wish to goodness
dat you'd tek me and de chillun! Leastways I
mek you a present of de chillun. Dey tells me
dat's we'se all free, but I can' mek out how I'm
guine raise 'em if you don' help me! I reckon
you ain' guine refuse me, is you?" NOVEMBER, 1866. For many months I have been unable to write
at all, following injuries received in a severe
fall which has caused me intense suffering, and
deprived me of the use of my right hand.
During my period of invalidism, our friends
have been very kind in coming to see me,
making my drawing-room quite a political
salon, politics in these days being an absorbing
topic in this sore and sorry period
of reconstruction. There is endless discussion
of the heart-breaking measures that are being
enforced as the means to restore conditions
that can never be accepted by our people. While
I am deeply interested in all questions that
concern not only the welfare of my own
community, but of the country at large, I prefer
to avoid in my diary any personal bias in
discussing the present fearful situation, the
appalling complications and evil events that
have resulted from this period of
reconstruction. There is a difference of opinion
even among our own people as to what methods
should be pursued. Such men as Generals Hood,
Wheeler, Longstreet, and Beaureguard cannot
agree, some taking more advanced and
conciliatory views than others. General
Longstreet, for instance, seems far ahead of
prevailing opinions, so much so that, if he
presses the policy which he now advocates, he
is bound to be looked upon askance by his
former companions in arms. On the other hand,
how can anyone doubt the sincerity of his
loyalty to the cause for which he
has so gallantly fought? Only time can prove
the wisdom or the fallacy of the cause for
which he is now struggling with all his might. We have been terribly distressed at the tragic
death of the wife and children of our old friend
Dr. Richardson. There is no mode of travel more
comfortable or really luxurious than on one of
our large river steamboats, but certainly there
is none attended by more terrible accidents.
With their high-pressure boilers and the
temptation to constantly increase their rate of
speed, the result is often a frightful explosion,
followed by fire, the passengers perishing in an
agonized death before any means of rescue can
be effected. Dr. Richardson's wife and children were to
join him here, coming from Louisville on one
of these floating palaces, when the not unusual
explosion occurred and all were lost. For many
years of my life I have made this trip every
spring and fall. We had usually a number of
friends on board, there was dancing every night
in the large saloon, we
made a toilet for dinner, and looked upon the
ten days or fortnight of our trip as a very
pleasant period of social enjoyment. We
always took a good supply of provisions, even
to a cow, who became so accustomed to her
semi-annual jaunt that she walked on and off
the steamer with perfect complacency. For a whole year James has worked hard
trying to raise money for the first payment on
the house purchased since we arrived here. We
have now been settled in it for three months.
The house has a stable, but alas! no horses or
carriages, so it is empty, but the negroes know
that we have it, and lately whole families from
the plantation have arrived to pay us prolonged
visits, which are very trying, now that every
extra mouth we feed involves an expense
clearly beyond our means. When they want to
shirk their work on the plantation, they are
suddenly seized with a desire to visit "de
fambly in de city. Sho' ole Massa and ole
Missus will be glad to see us!" They are
perfectly willing to work for us, but there is
nothing to employ
them in, and it requires very firm diplomacy to
persuade them to return to the plantation. One family may be disposed of, but
unfortunately they go back and give such
glowing accounts of their visit to us, that their
departure is only too quickly followed by other
arrivals. James has sold the plantation! The negroes,
however, refuse to work unless some member
of the family returns to manage them. The
present owner has offered my son Louis a good
salary if he will reorganize the work and
manage the plantation, so he has accepted, but
he writes that the task is not an easy one; that it
is pathetic how the old slaves long to have us
back, and most difficult to make them
understand that they are free, and to grasp the
fact that the family no longer owns the
plantation. He urges me to come back and see
if I can exert some influence or powers of
persuasion that may help to reconcile these
helpless creatures with their present lot, and
enable them to adjust themselves to the new
order. This sudden
freedom, the manner in which it has come
about, will, I fear, breed very serious trouble
for our country in the near future. Of course
the South will suffer most at the outset, but the
evil will eventually go much further and have
very far-reaching results. If the negroes could only have been in some
slight measure prepared, if we could have had a
little more time in which to train them, this
tremendous power that has so unexpectedly
been placed in their hands might have been used
to some good purpose. The freed slaves that
show any ability to do for themselves are those
who have been taught a trade during slavery,
who are trained carpenters, blacksmiths,
bricklayers, etc. A touching instance of the love and loyalty
shown by these people for their former owners,
is strikingly shown in the case of a negro who
was sent abroad before the War by his mistress
to be taught instrumental music, for which he
showed very pronounced aptitude. He had a
natural sense of rhythm that made his dance
music a very valuable acquisition
THE CLARICE OF TO-DAY
on the plantation, most Southerners being
proverbially fond of dancing and much given to
this form of amusement. From the time when
he could crawl this boy would steal into his
mistress' drawing-room and be found perched
on the music stool and trying to play on her
piano. On his return to New Orleans at the
close of the War, he found his old mistress
penniless, a widow, and alone in the world, as
her two sons had been killed on the battlefield.
He went manfully to work to support her, and
has eventually been able to give her a home, but
in order to do this he works all day in a music
store, and plays at night for dancing parties. He
is quite the most important feature of a
successful ball, as it is not considered "chic"
to have anyone else play. Apart from his
delightful dance music, his intense enjoyment
of the pleasure that he is giving shows in his
face, which is like glistening ebony and radiant
with a smile that stretches from ear to ear, and
reveals a set of teeth the counterpart of the
ivories from which his powerful hands produce
a melody
and a measure that one cannot resist. He always
requests that the piano shall be placed so that
he can see the dancers, and for children's
parties his big right foot is set forth to beat
time, upon whose observance he strictly
insists, though the little people adore him and
call him, with all due respect, "Snowball." JANUARY, 1867. Christmas has come and gone! The hearts of
the young are full of its joy, the hearts of the
old are apt to be full of its sadness! Not so with
me, however, for whom it becomes more and
more, as I go on in life, the record day of all
the year, measuring the happiness of my
childhood, the hopes of my girlhood, and as
each record becomes the concentrated essence
of all previous records, in the delight and
exquisite pleasure of my motherhood, I realize
the past years of happiness in the happiness of
my children. The years of my sorrow are
forgotten on this day sacred to memory and
to peace.
CRESCENT PLANTATION. How strange it seems to return here again!
Louis is overjoyed at having me with him, and I
am glad that I came, in spite of the bitter
struggle that it cost me to do so. We are living
in a part of the old house that has been rebuilt
for Louis. Perhaps it is as well that the rest has
gone. Its presence would be too suggestive of
sad memories. This morning after my arrival all
their negroes hurried to greet me, and on the
back porch are strewn the simple and varied
offerings of love - half a dozen eggs, a chicken,
some flowers or vegetables that have grown in
their own small gardens. It is a curious but
touching collection, and brings tears to my
eyes. Some of the older mammies put their fat
black arms around me and our tears mingled.
While the maturer ones urge our return and
would undoubtedly serve us with loyalty, the
younger men and women are full of their
freedom, and the famous promise of "a mule
and an acre of ground" apiece, which they
firmly credit, opens out to them a
vista of wealth and ease, the equivalent to their
simple minds of a Monte Cristo fortune. What I
fear most for them is the likelihood in the near
future of their having free access to liquor. The
drinking curse is what we have always dreaded
most in our African slaves. During the few days that I have spent here, I
have fully realized how wise James was not to
attempt, in his condition of health, a renewal of
the old life under the new regime. Younger men
than he must undertake the arduous task.
Perhaps those who come from afar, without
handicap of the older systems, may stand a
better chance to revive sugar-making and work
out new and fresh ideas along different lines. NEW ORLEANS. Since my return I have found myself
involved in a work for a cause which appeals to
me tremendously, and to undertake it gives me
great comfort at the same time. I heartily wish
that such heavy responsibilities
had not fallen on my already much bowed
shoulders. At the French Opera House where
were gathered many prominent representatives
of military-civil circles, a mass meeting was
held for the purpose of electing a president of
an association to raise money for the widows
and disabled in the Confederate ranks. Great
was my consternation and surprise when my
name was called out from the stage as the
woman selected for this great honor. The
announcement was quickly followed by the
selection of a most able and distinguished
committee of ladies to aid me: Mrs. Slanffer,
Mrs. Slocomb, Mrs. H. Connor, Mrs. Nolitt,
and many others who are younger and probably
much more efficient than I am to organize and
carry out this tremendous task. Of course I
shall bring to it my best efforts and work in its
behalf with all my heart and soul. A month later. My days being all too short for the work in
hand, I have had no time to record its progress
here. We have decided, after much
discussion as to the wisest means of raising
money among those who have so very little left
to give, upon a general bazaar and lottery,
combined with evening entertainments of
varied character, for which the price of
admission will be very moderate, as all actors
and singers have volunteered to give their
services free. There is not a store in New
Orleans from the largest dry goods and jewelry
establishments to the smallest Italian fruit stand
that has not made some generous contribution,
including precious stones, silverware, clothing,
and household articles of every description to
be offered for raffle or sale. We have the
Mauresque Building, which is very large and
lends itself easily to decoration, giving us all
the space we require. I go every day with one of
the committee to ask for donations, very
seldom for money, but any article is of value,
small or large, either for sale or lottery, and it
is most gratifying that not once in any quarter
has our request for a donation been refused.
This is the fourth day of the bazaar and we
have every reason to hope for great results. Last
night the great Ristori offered to give us
recitations from several of her plays. This
crowded the house to its utmost capacity, and
all who came were well repaid, for it was a
wonderful, never-to-be-forgotten evening. The
great artiste was at her best, and won us all with
the charm of her rare and fascinating
personality. Walter Fane was appointed on the
committee that received her, and being a fluent
Italian scholar was spokesman for the others.
Ristori was enchanted at his greeting her in her
own tongue and still more delighted over his
knowledge of, and love for, her country. She has
been most sympathetic and generous in her
desire to help our cause. I felt proud, too, that I
could present to her so many charming and
distinguished women, to say nothing of the men
whose gallantry and courteous bearing greatly
pleased her, reminding her of the best Latin
traditions in the Old World from which she
comes.
The most attractive feature of the bazaar is
the flower and fruit stand. The girls in their
bower of roses are "queen roses" themselves,
and their fresh young faces are a great magnet
to the crowd, so that a lively trade goes on
daily, and their contributions to the fund is an
ever-increasing one. In the group are the two
famous beauties, Anna and Lydia Henning, and
so many are the disputes as to their respective
charms, that my cousin Billy Walker swears he
will risk bigamy and marry both, Anna, who is
very intellectual, to be his fireside companion,
and Lydia to preside and adorn the head of his
table. Clara and Minnie Morton, who have just
returned from Europe, are full of dash and "chic,"
and they, too, having a large circle of
beaux and swains following in their wake, add a
merry note of wit and repartee to the popularity
of their stronghold. Nature's nobleman, a true Christian and a
faithful friend, untiring in his efforts to assist
and uplift the good of the community in which
he lives. As a citizen he was fully appreciated
and admired, and the Chamber of
Commerce has just passed and sent me
resolutions that are a full and touching tribute
to his memory. His greatest hobby was in
educating and giving young men a start in life,
and many a successful one owes his good
fortune to James' timely aid.
Note by Editor. - The writer of the Diary
saw her prayer fulfilled and did not long survive
her husband. Although a great invalid she spent
her remaining years in good work, but her
compensating joy and comfort in her declining
years was the marriage of her daughter with
Walter Fane.] Return to Menu Page for Diary of a Refugee by Frances Hewitt Fearn Return to First Person Narratives of the American South Home Page Return to Documenting the American South Home Page
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A month later.
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Later on.
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From a drawing by Rosalie Urquhart
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From a drawing by Rosalie Urquhart
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JULY 1st.
From a drawing by Rosalie Urquhart
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A week later.
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In Paris.
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OCTOBER.
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From a painting by H. Flandrin
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NOVEMBER, 1865.
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