Strange True Stories of Louisiana

by George Washington Cable

  XII.

  VICKSBURG.

  We reached Vicksburg that night and went to H.'s room. Next morning thecook he had engaged arrived, and we moved into this house. Martha'signorance keeps me busy, and H. is kept close at his office.

  _January 7th, 1863_.--I have had little to record recently, for we havelived to ourselves, not visiting or visited. Every one H. knows is absent,and I know no one. H. tells me of the added triumph since the repulse ofSherman in December, and the one paper published here shouts victory asmuch as its gradually diminishing size will allow. Paper is a seriouswant. There is a great demand for envelopes in the office where H. is. Hefound and bought a lot of thick and smooth colored paper, cut a tinpattern, and we have whiled away some long evenings making envelopes. Ihave put away a package of the best to look at when we are old. The booksI brought from Arkansas have proved a treasure, but we can get no more. Iwent to the only book-store open; there were none but Mrs. Stowe's "SunnyMemories of Foreign Lands." The clerk said I could have that cheap,because he couldn't sell her books, so I am reading it now. The monotonyhas only been broken by letters from friends here and there in theConfederacy. One of these letters tells of a Federal raid and says, "Butthe worst thing was, they would take every tooth-brush in the house,because we can't buy any more; and one cavalry man put my sister's newbonnet on his horse, and said 'Get up, Jack,' and her bonnet was gone."

  _Feb. 25th, 1863_.--A long gap in my journal, because H. has been ill untodeath with typhoid fever. I nearly broke down from loss of sleep, therebeing no one to relieve me. It was terrible to be alone at night with apatient in delirium, and no one within call. To wake Martha was simplyimpossible. I got the best doctor here, but when convalescence began thequestion of food was a trial. I got with great difficulty two chickens.The doctor made the drug-store sell two of their six bottles of port; hesaid his patient's life depended on it. An egg is a rare and preciousthing. Meanwhile the Federal fleet has been gathering, has anchored at thebend, and shells are thrown in at intervals.

  _March 20th_.--The slow shelling of Vicksburg goes on all the time, and wehave grown indifferent. It does not at present interrupt or interfere withdaily avocations, but I suspect they are only getting the range ofdifferent points; and when they have them all complete, showers of shotwill rain on us all at once. Non-combatants have been ordered to leave orprepare accordingly. Those who are to stay are having caves built.Cave-digging has become a regular business; prices range from twenty tofifty dollars, according to size of cave. Two diggers worked at ours aweek and charged thirty dollars. It is well made in the hill that slopesjust in the rear of the house, and well propped with thick posts, as theyall are. It has a shelf, also, for holding a light or water. When we wentin this evening and sat down, the earthy, suffocating feeling, as of aliving tomb, was dreadful to me. I fear I shall risk death outside ratherthen melt in that dark furnace. The hills are so honeycombed with cavesthat the streets look like avenues in a cemetery. The hill called theSky-parlor has become quite a fashionable resort for the few upper-circlefamilies left here. Some officers are quartered there, and there is a bandand a field-glass. Last evening we also climbed the hill to watch theshelling, but found the view not so good as on a quiet hill nearer home.Soon a lady began to talk to one of the officers: "It is such folly forthem to waste their ammunition like that. How can they ever take a townthat has such advantages for defense and protection as this? We'll justburrow into these hills and let them batter away as hard as they please."

  "You are right, madam; and besides, when our women are so willing to bravedeath and endure discomfort, how can we ever be conquered?"

  Soon she looked over with significant glances to where we stood, and beganto talk at H.

  "The only drawback," she said, "are the contemptible men who are stayingat home in comfort when they ought to be in the army if they had a sparkof honor."

  I cannot repeat all, but it was the usual tirade. It is strange I have metno one yet who seems to comprehend an honest difference of opinion, andstranger yet that the ordinary rules of good breeding are now so entirelyignored. As the spring comes on one has the craving for fresh, green foodthat a monotonous diet produces. There was a bed of radishes and onions inthe garden, that were a real blessing. An onion salad, dressed only withsalt, vinegar, and pepper, seemed a dish fit for a king, but last nightthe soldiers quartered near made a raid on the garden and took them all.

  _April 2d, 1863_.--We have had to move, and have thus lost our cave. Theowner of the house suddenly returned and notified us that he intended tobring his family back; didn't think there'd be any siege. The cost of thecave could go for the rent. That means he has got tired of the Confederacyand means to stay here and thus get out of it. This house was the only oneto be had. It was built by ex-Senator G., and is so large our tinyhousehold is lost in it. We only use the lower floor. The bell is oftenrung by persons who take it for a hotel and come beseeching food at anyprice. To-day one came who would not be denied. "We do not keep a hotel,but would willingly feed hungry soldiers if we had the food." "I have beentraveling all night and am starving; will pay any price for just bread." Iwent to the dining-room and found some biscuits, and set out two, with alarge piece of corn-bread, a small piece of bacon, some nice sirup, and apitcher of water. I locked the door of the safe and left him to enjoy hislunch. After he left I found he had broken open the safe and taken theremaining biscuits.

  _April 28th, 1863_.--What shall we eat? what shall we drink? andwherewithal shall we be clothed? We have no prophet of the Lord at whoseprayer the meal and oil will not waste. As to wardrobe, I have learned todarn like an artist. Making shoes is now another accomplishment. Mine werein tatters. H. came across a moth-eaten pair that he bought me, giving tendollars, I think, and they fell into rags when I tried to wear them; butthe soles were good, and that has helped me to shoes. A pair of oldcoat-sleeves--nothing is thrown away now--was in my trunk. I cut an exactpattern from my old shoes, laid it on the sleeves, and cut out thus gooduppers and sewed them carefully; then soaked the soles and sewed the clothto them. I am so proud of these home-made shoes that I think I'll put themin a glass case when the war is over, as an heirloom. H. says he has cometo have an abiding faith that everything he needs to wear will come out ofthat trunk while the war lasts. It is like a fairy-casket. I have but adozen pins remaining, I gave so many away. Every time these are used theyare straightened and kept from rust. All these curious labors areperformed while the shells are leisurely screaming through the air; but aslong as we are out of range we don't worry. For many nights we have hadbut little sleep because the Federal gun-boats have been running past thebatteries. The uproar when this is happening is phenomenal. The firstnight the thundering artillery burst the bars of sleep, we thought it anattack by the river. To get into garments and rush upstairs was the workof a moment. From the upper gallery we have a fine view of the river, andsoon a red glare lit up the scene and showed a small boat towing two largebarges, gliding by. The Confederates had set fire to a house near thebank. Another night, eight boats ran by, throwing a shower of shot, andtwo burning houses made the river clear as day. One of the batteries has aremarkable gun they call "Whistling Dick," because of the screeching,whistling sound it gives, and certainly it does sound like a torturedthing. Added to all this is the indescribable Confederate yell, which is asoul-harrowing sound to hear. I have gained respect for the mechanism ofthe human ear, which stands it all without injury. The streets are seldomquiet at night; even the dragging about of cannon makes a din in theseechoing gullies. The other night we were on the gallery till the last ofthe eight boats got by. Next day a friend said to H., "It was a wonder youdidn't have your heads taken off last night. I passed and saw themstretched over the gallery, and grape-shot were whizzing up the streetjust on a level with you." The double roar of batteries and boats was sogreat, we never noticed the whizzing. Yesterday the _Cincinnati_ attemptedto go by in daylight, but was disabled and sunk. It was a pitiful sight;we could not see the finale,
though we saw her rendered helpless.