When Will This Cruel War Be Over? Page 6

  More and more men are deserting every day. Last week someone in his company was caught and condemned to be executed. Tally was forced to be among those in the firing squad. The wretched man, blindfolded, was marched to the designated place and tied to a stake. Tally does not know if his gun was loaded, as half of the men were given blank charges. The man was trying to return home in order to help his family. The letters they receive from home tell of their families having little to eat. He wonders why we have not written to him, although he says he did receive the clothes we sent.

  He is of the opinion that they will have another fight soon.

  He has changed, he says, although he hopes he is the same Tally I met before he left and the thought of returning home and seeing me is the only thing that keeps him going. He feels fortunate to have escaped injury or worse, or fallen prey to any of the illnesses that are plaguing his comrades, many of whom are suffering from chronic dysentery or typhoid fever.

  He says he does not have the words to express his sorrow upon hearing of Mother’s passing, but he knows that, in a way, she is still with us. His words are like balm for my soul, and I am relieved that he has received at least one of my letters. He said he never wished to be back home so much in all his life and he wonders if I am receiving his letters. He has not received a letter from me in a long time.

  Sunday, September 25, 1864

  Cousin Rachel marched down the stairs this morning and demanded to see Colonel Davenport. After much fuss she was admitted into the library, which now serves as his office. She told him she would be unable to enter the house by the front door if he insists on putting up the Union f lag. Colonel Davenport said the f lag would stand and that this was now Federal property. Cousin Rachel said she would enter and leave only by the back door in that case. Colonel Davenport said Cousin Rachel could do as she wished and had his soldiers escort her from the library.

  Tuesday, September 27, 1864

  Mr. Garlington remains optimistic, although Lord knows it is hard for me to understand his belief that the Confederate troops are about to push back the Yankees.

  I am glad Mother is not here to see what has happened

  Wednesday, September 28, 1864

  I visited the family graveyard today. I am glad Mother is not here to see what has happened. Sometimes I am thrown into a state of melancholy when I think about her and the days that seem gone forever. Mother, reading aloud to me while the fire warmed us. I especially remember the first autumn fires — how brightly they burned. I doubt if they will ever burn quite so brightly again.

  Friday, September 30, 1864

  We hear that Mrs. Mallard was standing on the porch of her house with her two small boys when a Yankee rode by with chickens tied to his saddle. In a scornful tone he warned her that the war would soon be over. She defiantly told him that Southerners would fight to the death and that her boys would continue the fight when they were grown.

  The Yankees found a hog that Mrs. Mallard had buried. One of the soldiers accidentally discovered that the ground under him was hollow and dug through the roof of the hastily constructed hiding place and unearthed the pig. They butchered the animal right there and rode off with the pig tied to the saddle along with the chickens.

  The Mallards now have little to eat.

  Saturday, October 1, 1864

  The Yankees invaded Doctor Harris’s house. They took some pieces of the cake that his cook had made and threw some coins into a plate and rode off.

  Shortly after, another band of Yankees approached and took the rest of the cake, as well as the coins left by the first bunch, and ordered Doctor Harris’s cook to prepare a meal for them, which they found so delicious they decided to make her come with them back to their camp. Doctor Harris’s cook is quite fat and they forced her up on a mule — which she has never ridden in her life. The other Negroes stood around laughing, although, I must admit, I did not see the humor in any of this.

  A few hours later the cook came walking back, saying that she fell off the mule so many times that the soldiers decided to go on without her. She told the Yankees that Southern boys would never have taken the money because they were raised with better manners.

  Iris said she heard an owl screech near the house, which meant someone would soon die.

  Sunday, October 2, 1864

  Mr. Garlington has had his Negroes dig new gate post holes. When they ceased work for the evening, he put his bags of gold and silver in the holes and barely covered them with dirt, so that in the morning, unbeknownst to them, the Negroes put the gate post in place without being any wiser. He is quite pleased with himself.

  Yesterday morning the Yankees left hurriedly and when they returned at dusk, they had a wounded man with them. They laid him outside by the trellis fence surrounding the garden. He seemed to be in a woeful state. He looked quite parched and, although I assumed his comrades would tend to him, I decided to bring him some water. I approached with great trepidation — there was no one around. He could barely open his eyes and looked as if he were burning up with fever. He was so young, about Tally’s age. I showed him the water pitcher and he nodded, which seemed to be quite an effort. I held it to his lips and carefully tipped it so the water trickled into his mouth. Some ran down his face but he drank heartily. When it seemed that he had drunk his fill I stood up, turned, and walked away. “Thank you, Ma’am, from a thirsty man,” he called out. I nodded and went back into the house.

  When I awoke I looked out the window to see if he was still there. He was gone. Later that morning I saw the soldiers placing his limp body on a cart and taking him away.

  I am not as frightened as perhaps I should be

  Monday, October 3, 1864

  Aunt Caroline learned today that Nora Canning was helped by a kind Yankee. A troop of soldiers drove by her house and stopped. Her youngest was crying and the soldier asked why he was crying. Mrs. Canning said it was because he was so hungry — she hadn’t been able to give her children anything to eat for two days. The soldier, his eyes filling with tears, said he would come back later with food. He was as good as his word — returning that night with biscuits and hot coffee, which he shared with her and the children.

  Unfortunately, this kind of behavior is rare, and there are daily reports of one horror following another. Mrs. Canning’s neighbor was set upon by a band of Yankees who wanted to know how long it had been since our troops passed this way. Her boy refused to tell them and the Yankees tied a rope around his neck and swung him from a tree limb until he was nearly dead. Finally, they cut him down and went on their way, laughing at the wretched joke.

  Thus far, we have escaped without such incidents, but I cannot help but wonder if our time will come. We remain as much as possible on the third floor. Aunt Caroline and I do our best to stay clear of the soldiers, who swarm about the house throughout the day.

  I am surprised that I am not as frightened as perhaps I should be — certainly not considering our present living conditions.

  Lily came down with me to care for Baby Elizabeth while I fixed breakfast. Lily is, as I have said, a great help with the baby. Having Elizabeth here provides a ray of hope that better times than these might be on the horizon.

  Wednesday, October 5, 1864

  The Yankees laugh at our Negroes because they have not run off the way so many around here have. They fail to comprehend the reason for their loyalty, which the Yankees consider foolish. Amos replied to one, with the air of dignity he always has about him, that he does not leave because this is his home. He is proud of all we have taught him. Iris told them that if she left there would be nobody to take care of Miss Emma. I have known Iris all my life, and I do not know what I would do if she left.

  Thursday, October 6, 1864

  Lily has come down with scarlet fever. She was very restless all last night, and the fever continues hot and high today and her throat is generally swollen and sore. She is sitting up and talking, which is a good sign, and she remains quite sensible. Colonel
Davenport has been kind enough to have one of the Yankee doctors look at her.

  Saturday, October 8, 1864

  Lily seems relieved this morning. The fever appears to have subsided, although Aunt Caroline insists she remain in bed. She misses being with Baby Elizabeth, but there is too much risk involved. We are all crowded up here in these rooms and it is quite difficult. I am finding it nearly impossible to find the time required to maintain my diary. I strive to wake at dawn, take my diary from the bottom of the bureau drawer, and write as much as I can before breakfast. I feel fortunate that the soldiers have not chosen to search our rooms. We have so little up here and are so clearly in strained circumstances that I do not think the soldiers pay us any mind.

  Cousin Rachel sleeps all day and is up all night, which was quite disturbing at first, but I have become accustomed to it.

  It takes a long time to recover from scarlet fever and Aunt Caroline is giving Lily as much care as possible.

  I have not been able to write Tally and, alas, I have not heard from him in quite some time.

  Sunday, October 9, 1864

  Mrs. Broyles spent most of the morning looking for her hair comb. She is very pale and is losing a great deal of weight.

  Doctor Harris’s cook was found dead this morning. Presumably, her heart gave out.

  Tuesday, October 11, 1864

  Lily seems to be responding to treatment and appears to be on the mend. She rested last night and slept soundly for the first time since the fever began, although she still does not have much appetite, which is fortunate because we have so little to eat. Aunt Caroline is fearful that the baby will also fall prey to the fever.

  There was death shining in his eyes

  Friday, October 14, 1864

  Mr. Garlington has been found hanging from his apple tree. We are all horrified.

  At first, it was thought to be a suicide, which apparently was the intent. Foul play was suspected because his shirt was so awkwardly buttoned, and the shoes he had on were new with not a scratch or hint of dirt on the soles. It was discovered that he had been smothered in his bed and only then carried and hanged from the apple tree.

  All the silver, jewelry, and money — including the gold hidden under the newly placed gate posts — was taken. It appears that they had been planning this insurrection for quite some time. Mrs. Garlington is beside herself with fear and grief. She is fortunate that she too was not slain, for it is known far and wide that she is quick to whip her servants for the slightest indiscretion.

  Romeo is believed to have led the plot and he has run off, along with the rest of the Negroes. It is said that they rubbed pepper on the soles of their feet, and that is why the dogs cannot locate them.

  Mrs. Garlington says she heard nothing.

  Father has always disagreed with the way Mr. Garlington treated his Negroes. Mr. Garlington claimed that they were obstinate by nature, and it was required that the impudent ones constantly be reminded of his authority by daily corporal punishment. Fear of their master was, according to Mr. Garlington, necessary to get them to work properly.

  Mr. Garlington sold Romeo’s wife and oldest child three years ago, which was the cause of grave and continuous problems. He steadfastly refused to let Romeo visit his wife, even though he knew the family to whom she was sold. They did not know the whereabouts of the oldest child.

  This was, I know, something Father tried successfully to avoid and he counseled Mr. Garlington to reconsider — which he refused to do.

  That same year Romeo’s baby son died, although I am not sure what was the cause.

  Mr. Garlington accused Father of pampering our Negroes and warned him that it would lead to their becoming indulgent and spoiled, which would in turn lead to insubordination. Both Father and Mother could be quite firm and strict when it was warranted — Father especially — but I think the wisdom of their way can be readily seen in the continued loyalty of our Negroes, while all around us others are running off to join the Yankees or worse, as witness the events at the Garlington house.

  Iris has insisted on sleeping outside my room to protect us — which has made her the object of great scorn from the soldiers who are stationed downstairs. They question why she would do this, and Iris tells them that she has nursed me since I was a baby and that she has no intention of abandoning me now. Bless her.

  I am proud that our Negroes have chosen to remain with us. I have always wondered what they truly thought. We live with them but we know so little about them. I have often made note of the fact that they are one way with us and another with their own color. I would think that this deception is something they have had to adopt.

  I must confess that whenever I saw Mr. Garlington I had the eerie feeling that there was death shining in his eyes. Perhaps all of this was written in the book of fate.

  Sunday, October 16, 1864

  All around us people are leaving. Some heading south, others heading west, taking whatever they can with them. I support Aunt Caroline in her decision to stay. Where would we go, and what would happen to us? We cannot go to Richmond, for all reports are that the situation there is dire. And what would happen to our beautiful home? How would Father and Tally find us?

  How precious life is

  Saturday, October 22, 1864

  All hope is slipping away. I pray that God will sustain us, yet, at times, I feel it would be better if we all would die and put an end to this misery. I try not to let thoughts like that enter my mind. I think of seeing Father and Tally again and that gives me strength to continue. I think of how Mother would have liked me to act and that too gives me strength.

  Tuesday, October 25, 1864

  At night we can hear the guns in the distance breaking the silence, and during the day we fear that Colonel Davenport and his men will leave and abandon us to the lawless soldiers who are roaming the countryside. Having our home taken over by Colonel Davenport has proved to be a blessing. If it were not for his protection I do not know what would become of us.

  Saturday, October 29, 1864

  My thoughts are of Tally. Is that bad? I wonder if we would be happy as man and wife. Marriage is such a holy state, and I would not want to enter it unless it were to remain so.

  This war has made me see how precious life is. Odd when I am surrounded by death and darkness. I fear I have wasted my youth on trivialities where sugar plums and balls achieved a disproportionate importance, along with the craving for useless objects. I was living in a state of ignorant bliss. Well, this is no more.

  Tuesday, November 1, 1864

  Cousin Rachel continues to be a trial. Aunt Caroline has had to have a stern talk with her about how she acts when she is around the Yankee soldiers. Aunt Caroline is concerned that Cousin Rachel might provoke them to something regrettable. I heartily agree with her, and I am not sure why Cousin Rachel is acting this way.

  We no longer talk about anything — although I have tried. Early yesterday morning I heard her softly playing her flute while I was washing. I quietly reentered the room and waited until she had finished the piece. It was quite nice, which I told her. She just stared at me with a faraway look in her eyes and then got back into bed, turning her face to the wall.

  Aunt Caroline and I have been appreciative of the manner in which the soldiers who occupy our house have conducted themselves and wish the situation to remain so. We expected the worst after hearing reports from others. We have not been shown any disrespect, and they show much consideration.

  Despite their kindness I cannot help but think how long it has been since I lay down in peace at night. I sleep fitfully and wake in the morning just as tired as when I laid my head on the pillow the night before, fearful of what the day will bring.

  Why can we not go on living as we did before?

  Thursday, November 3, 1864

  Cousin Rachel is filled with hatred for the Abolitionist soldiers, and she says the war has turned her heart to stone. She says the Yankee flag is a horrible symbol of this hateful inv
asion. She has sewn a small Confederate flag inside the folds of her dress. She says this is the true spirit we should show, and she accuses me of putting on a false face when the enemy is all around us. I have always been a very private person and I cannot change my ways now. Cousin Rachel accuses me of superficiality, which, I must confess, offends me. I do have faith — although at times, Lord knows, I waver — that better days are coming. I am sorry this irritates her so, but I could never abide political talk and I am afraid I cannot do so now. Even before the war, when Father and Mr. Garlington and Doctor Harris would talk about politics at the dinner table, I usually found some reason to excuse myself.

  I do not know whether secession is the right choice, nor do I know if freeing the Negroes will answer all our problems. They seemed so content before all this began that I am unsure as to what all the fury is about. Why can we not go on living as we did before? Is it not enough to believe in the life we had? I do not hate the Yankees as Cousin Rachel does but nor do I understand why they have chosen to come to our land and spread terror, deprivation, and upheaval in their wake.

  Friday, November 4, 1864

  Cary Baldwin and her children have left.

  Mrs. Baldwin heard someone at the front door and before she could put some clothes on, they were thundering at the shutters, demanding entrance and waking the few Negroes that remained.

  All were ordered to assemble in the dining room. The children, rudely awakened by the commotion, were dumbfounded by all the activity.

  She and the children were driven into a state of panic. The Yankees have incited the remaining Negroes into a fearful state — employing them to keep watch and let them know of any suspicious activity, such as Confederate soldiers or hidden weapons.