_July 4th, 1863_.--It is evening. All is still. Silence and night are once
more united. I can sit at the table in the parlor and write. Two candles
are lighted. I would like a dozen. We have had wheat supper and wheat
bread once more. H. is leaning back in the rocking-chair; he says:
"G., it seems to me I can hear the silence, and feel it too. It wraps me
like a soft garment; how else can I express this peace?"
But I must write the history of the last twenty-four hours. About five
yesterday afternoon, Mr. J., H.'s assistant, who, having no wife to keep
him in, dodges about at every change and brings us the news, came to H.
and said:
"Mr. L., you must both come to our cave to-night. I hear that to-night the
shelling is to surpass anything yet. An assault will be made in front and
rear. You know we have a double cave; there is room for you in mine, and
mother and sister will make a place for Mrs. L. Come right up; the ball
will open about seven."
We got ready, shut up the house, told Martha to go to the church again if
she preferred it to the cellar, and walked up to Mr. J.'s. When supper was
eaten, all secure, and the ladies in their cave night toilet, it was just
six, and we crossed the street to the cave opposite. As I crossed a mighty
shell flew screaming over my head. It was the last thrown into Vicksburg.
We lay on our pallets waiting for the expected roar, but no sound came
except the chatter from the neighboring caves, and at last we dropped
asleep. I woke at dawn stiff. A draught from the funnel-shaped opening had
been blowing on me all night. Every one was expressing surprise at the
quiet. We started for home and met the editor of the "Daily Citizen." H.
said:
"This is strangely quiet, Mr. L."
"Ah, sir," shaking his head gloomily, "I'm afraid the last shell has been
thrown into Vicksburg."
"Why do you fear so?"
"It is surrender. At six last evening a man went down to the river and
blew a truce signal; the shelling stopped at once."
When I entered the kitchen a soldier was there waiting for the bowl of
scrapings. (They took turns for it.)
"Good-morning, madam," he said; "we won't bother you much longer. We can't
thank you enough for letting us come, for getting this soup boiled has
helped some of us to keep alive, but now all this is over."
"Is it true about the surrender?"
"Yes; we have had no official notice, but they are paroling out at the
lines now, and the men in Vicksburg will never forgive Pemberton. An old
granny! A child would have known better than to shut men up in this cursed
trap to starve to death like useless vermin." His eyes flashed with an
insane fire as he spoke. "Haven't I seen my friends carted out three or
four in a box, that had died of starvation! Nothing else, madam! Starved
to death because we had a fool for a general."
"Don't you think you're rather hard on Pemberton? He thought it his duty
to wait for Johnston."
"Some people may excuse him, ma'am, but we'll curse him to our dying day.
Anyhow, you'll see the blue-coats directly."
Breakfast dispatched, we went on the upper gallery. The street was
deserted, save by a few people carrying home bedding from their caves.
Among these was a group taking home a little creature, born in a cave a
few days previous, and its wan-looking mother. About 11 o'clock a man in
blue came sauntering along, looking about curiously. Then two followed
him, then another.
"H., do you think these can be the Federal soldiers?"
"Why, yes; here come more up the street."
Soon a group appeared on the court-house hill, and the flag began slowly
to rise to the top of the staff. As the breeze caught it, and it sprang
out like a live thing exultant, H. drew a long breath of contentment.
"Now I feel once more at home in my own country."
In an hour more a grand rush of people set in toward the river,--foremost
among them the gentleman who took our cave; all were flying as if for
life.
"What can this mean, H.? Are the populace turning out to greet the
despised conquerors?"
"Oh," said H., springing up, "look! It is the boats coming around the
bend."
Truly, it was a fine spectacle to see that fleet of transports sweep
around the curve and anchor in the teeth of the batteries so lately
vomiting fire. Presently Mr. J. passed and called:
"Aren't you coming, Mr. L.? There's provisions on those boats: coffee and
flour. 'First come, first served,' you know."
"Yes, I'll be there pretty soon," replied H.
But now the new-comers began to swarm into our yard, asking H. if he had
coin to sell for greenbacks. He had some, and a little bartering went on
with the new greenbacks. H. went out to get provisions. When he returned a
Confederate officer came with him. H. went to the box of Confederate money
and took out four hundred dollars, and the officer took off his watch, a
plain gold one, and laid it on the table, saying, "We have not been paid,
and I must get home to my family." H. added a five-dollar greenback to the
pile, and wished him a happy meeting. The townsfolk continued to dash
through the streets with their arms full, canned goods predominating.
Towards five Mr. J. passed again. "Keep on the lookout," he said; "the
army of occupation is coming along," and in a few minutes the head of the
column appeared. What a contrast to the suffering creatures we had seen so
long were these stalwart, well-fed men, so splendidly set up and
accoutered! Sleek horses, polished arms, bright plumes,--this was the
pride and panoply of war. Civilization, discipline, and order seemed to
enter with the measured tramp of those marching columns; and the heart
turned with throbs of added pity to the worn men in gray, who were being
blindly dashed against this embodiment of modern power. And now this
"silence that is golden" indeed is over all, and my limbs are unhurt, and
I suppose if I were Catholic, in my fervent gratitude, I would hie me with
a rich offering to the shrine of "our Lady of Mercy."
_July 7th, 1863_.--I did not enjoy quiet long. First came Martha, who
announced her intention of going to search for her sons, as she was free
now. I was hardly able to stand since the severe cold taken in the cave
that night, but she would not wait a day. A colored woman came in wanting
a place, and said she had asked her mistress for wages and her mistress
had turned her out. I was in no condition to stand upon ceremony then, and
engaged her at once, but hear to-day that I am thoroughly pulled to pieces
in Vicksburg circles; there is no more salvation for me. Next came two
Federal officers and wanted rooms and board. To have some protection was a
necessity; both armies were still in town, and for the past three days
every Confederate soldier I see has a cracker in his hand. There is hardly
any water in town, no prospect of rain, and the soldiers have emptied one
cistern in the yard already and begun on the other. The colonel put a
guard at the gate to limit the water given. Next came the owner of the
house and said we must move; he wanted the house, but it was so big he'd
just bring his family in; we could stay till we got one. They brought
boarders with them too, and children. Men are at work all over the house
shoveling up the plaster before repairing. Upstairs they are pouring it by
bucketfuls through the windows. Colonel D. brought work for H. to help
with from headquarters. Making out the paroles and copying them has taken
so long they wanted help. I am surprised and mortified to find that
two-thirds of all the men who have signed made their mark; they cannot
write. I never thought there was so much ignorance in the South. One of
the men at headquarters took a fancy to H. and presented him with a
portfolio, that he said he had captured when the Confederates evacuated
their headquarters at Jackson. It contained mostly family letters written
in French, and a few official papers. Among them was the following note,
which I will copy here, and file away the original as a curiosity when the
war is over.
[Illustration: Handwriting]