by
Francine C. Larson
A weekly look at a critical point
in the history of our nation
I have been researching an reflecting on the civil war. ....such a sad time. Here is an excerpt from our up-coming book, (Ray Hall and myself) Chanahatchee Letters:
Will opened the letter and said, “this letter is from Americus, Georgia. It is from my ma. As you recall, my Pa died a while back and she moved to Georgia. Here it is:
Dear Will,
I hope this letter finds you, Nancy and all the children well. I hope y’all are getting enough to eat.
Georgia is not doing so good. People are hungry and starving. Confederate money is becoming useless. Last Thursday when I tried to purchase some yarn, the storekeeper would not accept my confederate money. After much arguing back and forth, I talked him into working up a trade with peaches from my orchard. It is getting scary.
I heard some of the women talking in church and they said they were next to starving. I listened to their conversation and they were planning on breaking into an old railroad depot to get some bacon. They figured they could break the door down with an ax. Imagine that. Talking about and planning to steal while in church. What has this war done to us? However, their children are starving and I would more than likely do the same thing.
The women here have pistols and know how to use them!
I blame this situation partly on the farmers. They grew too much cotton and not enough food. That resulted in a shortage of food. It became such a problem that newspapers began printing stories and ads begging planters to stop growing cotton and start growing food.
The planters did not listen to the cry of a starving south. It seems to me that in the beginning was this rush to glory a couple of years ago, but now with this food shortage and especially after the Battle of Bull Run, the soldiers began to realize the war was real and that reality combined with their families almost starving caused some soldiers to desert. It is definitely a poor man’s fight for a rich man’s war.
It is sad for me. Americus is not what it used to be, believe me. You may walk a whole morning and never meet a familiar face. The ladies never go in the streets except accompanied by some escort or in carriages. How many of them are in black! How many houses are in mourning! You do not know, you cannot know the mental suffering I see every day. The old haunts, which used to be so lively, are now deserted and dark; no lights at night, nor music, nor notes of laughter! Why, I haven't smiled in a month. Whenever the strings of my heart vibrate, the face is not wreathed with dimples—the eyes are full of tears.
"Many of our young ladies have gone, like the last roses of summer. But still many yet are here. They, without an exception, detest everything that ever looked like a Yankee. Some reports got out, I hear, about one or two having received the Federal officers. It is positively not so, except those of Union families, who are now few and far between. These latter we systematically cut. One of them was lately married to a Tennessee Federal officeholder, which greatly shocked her friends. But we consider her dead; have buried her, mourned over her, and are fast forgetting her.
Oh, the bewildering Yankees! Behold them, my friend, behold them in their dirty blue coats and filthy whiskers. They walk as if they thought the sky was made in honor of the color of their cloth; they act as though the streets, the houses, 'the earth and air, and all that in them is,' belonged to them. In every corner, up and down every avenue and alley, from 'morn to noon, from noon to dewy eve,' it is nothing but tramp!
What I am trying to say, my dear Will is that I desperately want to come back to Alabama. I am sure you are experiencing some of the same problems, but at least I could suffer along the side of my son and his beloved family. I am so homesick to be with you! I am afraid for the future. It seems like the world is coming to an end. Why is God allowing this to happen? So many questions in my mind.
Please, dear Will…. please come and get me.
Your loving Ma
For more on the War.....HERE
No comments:
Post a Comment