Under the guns : $b A woman's reminiscences of the Civil WarWittenmyer, Annie
History
Under the guns : $b A woman's reminiscences of the Civil War
Wittenmyer, Annie
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Personal narratives
“You’ll feel better about it in the morning, George--you will get
over the shock. And then, too, remember that those who are behind the
fortifications may be ordered at any time to make a charge, which would
be more dangerous than the work you are now doing. But think about it;
and if in the morning you would rather go back to your regiment, I will
have the change made.”
The next morning George was all right, and he continued to drive for me
until after Vicksburg was taken.
MEETING A REBEL WOMAN AT NASHVILLE.
There was great rejoicing over the fall of Fort Henry and Fort
Donelson. The gunboats and transport vessels were pressing on to
Nashville, which was occupied by the Union army soon after the fall of
Fort Henry and Fort Donelson. I went up on the first transport.
The women were mostly left behind in the scramble to get out of the
city, and they were more intense in war spirit and partisan feeling
than the men. In the heat of the excitement the chief hotel was
thronged with both parties, where I took lodgings. The women sung
ditties about Beauregard and Davis before the door of my bedroom till
midnight, at intervals.
The great parlor of the hotel was a scene of the utmost confusion,
judging from the tumult of angry voices.
The women blamed the men about them. “Every man who is able to bear
arms ought to be ashamed to be seen outside of a war-camp in days like
these,” was the sharp rejoinder of a woman to her husband. I did not
hear his answer, but suppose from her reply that he said he would only
be throwing away his life.
“Throwing away your life, indeed! A man that is not true to our cause
at such a time _ought not to live_.”
Some one was sitting at the piano, and banged the keys of the
instrument in wildest fury to drown the sound of the contentions.
The next morning, in the dining-room, every Southern man and woman
gave us all a wide berth, not deigning to sit at the same end of the
dining-room.
After breakfast I went for a few minutes into the parlor. The lady
whose voice I heard in falsetto the night before followed me,
accompanied by her colored nurse-girl carrying her baby, perhaps six
months old.
I had no purpose of controversy in my heart; and so when the lady said,
“My baby is named after the best man in the world--Beauregard,” I only
smiled.
“I suppose you Yankees think you can conquer us?”
“That is what the people of the North hope to do.”
“Well, you can’t. There is not men enough in the North to conquer us;
for when you kill the men off, the women will take up arms.”
“Well, madam, there are thousands of men gathering and drilling in
the North, and they will soon be here; and it’s their firm purpose to
maintain the Union, cost what it will.”
“They’ll kill the women, will they?”
“They will _conquer the South_.”
“Contemptible hirelings! they’ll kill the women, will they?” she hissed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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