Ada Hutter’s Diary

Below you can read the full transcription of Ada Hutter’s diary. This diary was transcribed and edited by Laura Meisner.




To Ada

I cannot forget thee for [memory] will fling

Her light on otherwise ____ [sea]

Whenever I soonest [see] something will cling

To my bosom that whispers of thee.

Addie Ward

September 1st 1859


From [Bettie Garmen]

Ingleside, Nov. 22nd


From Laura Fowler.

From Nannie T____ Oct. 5 1859                    Ingleside Oct. 8th 1859

Ingleside Seminary



Martha [T.]

Ingleside May [4]



From A__ Old


Oct. 8th 1859


[Holly]                                     From Ella [Mitchell]

Ingleside Oct. 23rd




To Emma

I think of thee dear Emma

In my sad and lonely hours

And the thought of thee comes [oer] me

Like the breath of morning flowers

Likee the rainbow in the evening

Like the blossoms on the tree

I only think of thee

Your sincere friend




Joseph A. Crawford

Capt on Gen. Averetts staff

U.S. Volunteer Army



June 18/64




The Album

“An Album is a garden, not for show

Planted, but for use; where wholesome herbs should grow

A Cabinet of curious porcelain, where

No fancy enters, but what’s rich or rare.

A Chapel, where mere ornamental things

Are pure as crowns of saints, or angels’ wings.

A list of [living] friends; a holier [Room]

For names of some since mouldering in the tomb,

Those blooming memories life’s cold laws survive;

And dead elsewhere, they here yet speak and live.

Such, and as tender, should an Album be;

And, Ada, such we wish this book to be.”

Hon. L. ______

Lynchburg, VA

Sept. 4th 1859


To Ada

Dearest Ada could I _____

A garland for this page of thine

I would take the myrtle tree

Loves fit emblem fit emblem first for thee

Then I add the leaf of bay

And the amaranth so gay

Arboritia[1] I would pluck

With the rose bud full of grace

Little flowerets I would shew

“Forget me nots” all bright and blue

I would bid them softly say

Think of me when far away

But alas! I cannot trace

Buds that thy Album trace

Oh! then let all heart sincere

Whisper ____ and very dear

Your Friend,

Annie Hodge

Ingleside Sept. 24th



To Ada

“Together down life’s swelling tide,

Oh may our vessels safely glide

And may they anchor side by side

In Heaven”

Ella [Sewell]

Ingleside Sept. 24th 1859


Taken from the Capital Greenhouse

Washington Sept. 12th





Oh! Love is to the human heart,

As sunshine is to flowers.

And friendship is the warmest thing

In this cold world of ours.”

Mary Hey



To Ada

Oh! may thy life as wastes its lands

Be like a joyous summers day,

And love and friendships golden hands

Strew fragrant oders round [thy] way.

Oh! may thy dreams be pure and bright,

And sweet thy balmy sleep,

While angels, round thy breathing form

Their holy vigils keep.

And soft as deer upon the flowers,

May dreamland waft to thee

Some tender tale of future hours,

Some treasured thought of me,

Ella R. Ward

Hunter’s Hill

September 1st 1859



From the ____ of Jefferson

February 12th 1861.



From the grave of

dear Belle,

September 14th





To Ada

Where thee friends around thee throng,

Mid pleasures wild and free

And music lends its sweetest song

Oh! Then remember me.

Your friend,

[Mary Me]……..

Oct [8th] 1859



Ada,                                                    Mary R. Carter                                    Carrie Snowden

___ remember                             Washington                                     Baltimore

May 3rd, 1860                                                              D.C.                                            Md.



Spizzie [S. Key]                      Ms. Clara Griffen            A. S. Grigsby [Jr.]             Ella L. Hodges

Baltimore                                New York                                                              Mount Elm

MD                                                                                                                           Md



Jessie Smith                             Eliza A. Eads                          Sallie Sterett

Baltimore                                       Saint Louis                          Eastern Shore

Mo                                           M.d.




Ella [Sewell]                            Annie Hewlett                              Dellie Schaefer Esq

Baltimore                                Baltimore [Co.]                                   Baltimore

Md                                          Md.



To Ada

“You thought my heart was cold and stern

You doubted love when strongest

In future years you’ll have to learn

Proud hearts can love the longest”

Carrie [C] Snowden

Ingleside Nov 3d 1860



In the sweet bye and bye

Theres a land that is fairer than day.

And by faith we may see it a far

For the Father waits over the way

To prepare[2]



To dear Ada

Thy path like most by mortal trod,

Will have its thorns and floweres,

Its stony steps, its velvet sod,

Its sunshine and its showers.


And be thy choicest treasures stored

Where Faith may hold the key,

For “where our treasure is,” our Lord

Hath said—“the heart will be.”

[Jennie] Waters

November 5th 1859

To Ada

They sin, who tell us love can die

With life all other passions fly.

All others are but vanity;

But love is indestructible;

Its holy flame forever burneth;

From heaven it came to heaven returneth;

Too oft on earth a troubled guest,

At times deceived, at times oppressed—

It here is tried, and purified,

And hath in heaven its perfect rest.

Your devoted friend



[top of page ripped off/missing]

…____ than am ____…[only] is [chronicle] the death of this gall and…and accomplished young officer. He was born in the neighborhood of Lynchburg, Va. where his parents and family now reside, and had only attained his eighteenth year.



To [darling] Ada

[Ten]-wreaths of friendship ever [thine]

But let ____ floweret bloom for [use]

Though its fragrance should be [swine]

I would [have] the thorns from [something] __

August 15th 1863                    From your friend





To Miss Addie

Midst all thy beauties there’s a charm

I cannot well define-

I sometimes think ‘tis hidden in those soft black eyes of thine

Sometimes I think it is thy voice whose music like a birds

Still soothes me with the melody of sweetly spoken words-

Methinks the music of thy laugh hath a melodious flow

And yet I cannot say it ‘tis thy laugh of no

Lo now it is thy gentleness and now thy winning smile

[Lurking] in such rosy dimples as may easily beguile

It may perchance be something that like light within a vase

Even from the souls depth gleaming throws o’er thee such a grace

This hidden charm I’m seeking  but which words may not [impart]

May but be the influence of a kind and gentle heart

Or be it either look or [tine] or sigh or soft caress

Right well I know sweet Addie that I cannot love thee less

Nor would I seek to [learn] that charm if it might [haply] tear

This heart an instant from its shrine, or dim its ___ there

And may this charm, or charms through coming years still shine

Nor cease to hold its influence upon this heart of mine.





To Ada

“I wish for thee—the [boor] is rare-,

The choicest Heaven bestowes,

A friend to soothe thy every care,

And softens all thy woes.”

your friend Dellie

Sept. 23, 1859




Melt The Bells[3]

The following lines were written on Gen. Beauregard’s appeal to the people to confiscate their bells, to be melted into cannon—

Melt the bells, melt the bells.

Still the tinkling on the plains.

And transmute the evening chimes

Into war’s resounding rhymes.

That the invaders may be slain

[Page ripped here] …the bells—

Melt [page ripped] [Continued on verso]

Melt the bells, melt the bells,

Into cannon, vast and grim.

And the foe shall feel the ire

From its heaving lung of fire.

And we’ll put our trust in Him

And the bells.

Melt the bells, melt the bells,

And when the foe is driven back,[4]

And the lightening cloud of war

Shall roll thunderless & far

We will melt the…[page ripped]…back

It would greatly rejoice the heart of your friend Ada if in responding to the compliment of being one of those to grace the pages of your Album she could repay your partiality by inscribing something that combines the two qualities of pleasing and edifying,

The album is a book of the heart not of one heart but of many.  It’s [lines] of thought and sentiment and cherished reminiscences are constantly multiplying.  Here friend speaks to friend, not in the _____   _____ forms of classic love but in the warm and unrestrained out-pouring of holy confiding sentiment.  May this book be to you Ada the imprint of kindred hearts, the repository of noble thoughts and kind sentiments.  And far down in the vale of life when the shadows of the surrounding hill-tops on which you have passed away a happy day [admonish] you that the day of life is closing may that guardian word which has long attended your steps point your hopes in a _____ whose ___ shall never go down and whose light shall never fade away.

Such Ada is my sincere wish for you,

Your best Friend,

Mary R. Carter

Ingleside         October 22nd 1860



To Ada

“The album is a garden spot

Where friends and kindred sow

Where thorns and thistles flourish not

And only flowers may grow

I saw withing this garden spot

The fragrant flower – Forget me now”

Your friend

Ingleside January 21st             Sallie Bell



Le souvenir

“Le souvenir present céleste,

Ombre des biens que l’on n’a plus.

Est encore un plaisir que reste

Après tous ceux qu’on a perdus.”[5]

De votre amic[6]

Mina Brouer

Ingleside Juin[7] 26 1860




There are poems unwritten, & songs unsung

Sweeter than any that ever were heard –

Poems that wait for an angel tongue,

Songs that but long for a Paradise bird.


Poems that ripple thro’ lowliest lives

Poems unnoted and hidden away

Down in the soul where the beautiful [thrives]

Sweetly as flowers in the airs of May.


Poems that only the angels above us

Looking down deep in our hearts may [behold]

Felt tho’ unseen, by the beings who love us,

Written on lives as in letters of gold.


Sing to my soul the sweet song that thou [livest!]

Read me the poem that never was [penned]

The wonderful idol[8] of life that thou [givest]

Fresh from they spirit Oh, beautiful friend


Poems Unwritten

By Alfred Tenny[son][9]



July 15, /64


This morning refreshing rain is falling. How grateful the parched earth received God’s blessing breathed upon painting earth, the corn, the flowers, the grass, and fruit. Everything was burning up. Thank Heaven for this opening of its flood gates. I have been thinking of dear Risque until I have an actual pain where my heart is supposed to be. “Oh, mon frère,” [Adda] ________ of you and prays for you always. More than a year he has borne his weary imprisonment, dear noble Brother! How hard it is to be separated from those who are Life of our Life, even for Country. I pity girls who have no Brother, & men who have no Sister! What love is more disinterested than a sister’s, how she will cling to a Brother in spite of circumstances. How she throws the wide mantle of her love over his faults, and will always loves him to the last. We heard yesterday. She has gotten well and will soon be at Home. I miss her so much. I have been reading “Rassallas” & wish I was in the “Happy Valley.” No sorrow or disappointment there.

This morning I have been occupied looking over receipts (versus Rassallas & Happy Valley” to rid [Lucy] of certain troublesome friends he has made. I have finally found a bottle of [mercurial] ointment which I intend to apply. Romantic, n’est pas? But “Life is real, Life is earnest!” I received a long letter from dear Lizzie Gilliam today. It reminds [me] of “old times” to get one of her letters.



Parting             lesson

There is one [warning] in life which few of us [have] not perceived, [&] no [book] has noted down with [an] adequate emphasis.  It is this, “Beware of Parting.” [The] true sadness is not in the pain the pain of the parting, it is in the When & the How you are to meet again with the face about to vanish from your view!  From the passionate farewell to the woman who has your heart in her keeping, to the ____ goodbye, exchanged with [pleasant compassions] ___ a watering place, a country house, or the close of a festive day’s blithe and careless ______ – a cord stronger or weaker is broken asunder in every parting & Time’s busy fingers are not practiced in resplicing broken ties

Meet again you may; with it be with in the same way! With the same sympathies! With the same sentiments! Will the souls hurrying on in diverse paths, unite once more, as if the [interval] had been a dream? Rarely rarely! Have you not after a year’s absence, even a month’s, returned [to] place, found the same groups reassembled, & yet sighed sighed to yourself, “But where is the charm that once breathed from the spot, & once smiled from the faces”. A poet has said – “Eternity itself cannot restore the loss of a moment” Are you happy in the spot on which you tarry with the persons whose voices are now melodious to your ear? – beware of parting; [or] if part you must, say not in ___ defiance of Time & Destiny…[has]  [matters] ? – [not] shall doom [meet] again



Thursday, July 21

Today I spent at “The Forest,” the house of “Jefferson,” one of Virginia’s most honored sons. The dear old place never looked so beautiful than now. The Yankees have left Sandusky in desolation. The broad fields of waving grain, the lowlands covered with rich looking clover [dell] that met the eye with joy and filled the heart heart (duplicated in original) with thankfulness, are destroyed. Nothing but dusty fields are seen in place, with here and there, the remains of dead horses  ______. Mounds telling the sad tale of [another] war. Down [in] the grove just back of the barn, there are about a dozen mounds, not but one of them has any headstone. A small piece of board is placed over that one bearing this inscription:

“Lieut. J.W. Gordon

10th Va. Cavalry”

Who is he — I wonder? resting so quietly in the shade of the fine old oaks. I am sorry to see that he was a Virginian. He has only ____ the fate he deserved for being a traitor to his state, altho perhaps he was from Ohio, as nearly all the Regs. With [the North. Virg.] are really from Ohio, he deserved his fate. Still, when I look at his grave, imagination sees a fond a mother watcher with loving, tearful eyes for any mention of J.W. Gordon. She does not know that all that is earthly of her darling lies buried here in an enemy country, with no loving hand to care for his grave, no eye to shed a tear over his last resting place. I have forgotten all about The Forest and have filled this page with ____.



Friday, July 22nd, Sandusky

After a very pleasant ride, I reached home this morning about half past ten. I spent a very pleasant time at Uncle’s, as I always do. They are all well but Nannie who has the “whooping cough”. Romantic. I found all well at home and very glad to have me back again. A French boat has just arrived bringing a large mail and some Ladies from the North. I hope we have letters from dear Risque. It has been nearly three months since his last was written. In every letter nearly he mentioned “Rebel”. I think the soldiers have taken him. I am glad, tho’, that the Yankees did not get him. I miss my beautiful horse so much. He had learned to know me & tho’ so wild as to be almost unmanageable, he was very gentle with me. Would follow me all over the yard and feed from my hands. Risque will be so much distressed to hear that he is gone, but he cannot be more grieved than I was. Gen. Averell offered me a horse. I almost wish now I had taken it. Gen. Hunter’s army is very much demoralized. On the retreat it is said he lost about eight thousand men. I know it is not womanly to delight in suffering, still, they are only drinking the bitter [gall] prepared for us. Thank God that He has punished them. I only wish the Rulers at Washington could feel what they have doomed the soldiers to. They will, I hope, at no distant day; “Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. I will repay”.






No preparation by eulogies of description can lessen the effect which a first sight of a beautiful object produces upon a mind to which refinement of ideas gives a quick and accurate comprehension of beauty.  Be it a work of art, a scene in nature, or, rarest of all, a human face divine, a beauty never beheld before, strikes us with hidden pleasure like a burst of light, and it is a pleasure that elevates the imagination feels itself richer by a new idea of excellence, for not only is real beauty wholly original, having no prototype, but its immediate influence is Spiritual. It may seem strange – I appeal to every observant artist if the assertion be not true, – but the first sight of the most perfect order of female beauty, rather than courting, rebukes & strikes back every grosser instinct that would alloy admiration.  There must be some meanness and blemish in the beauty which the sensualist no sooner beholds than he covets.  In the higher incarnation of an abstract idea which runs through all the notions of moral good and celestial purity— even if the moment the eye sees the heart loves the image the love has in it something of the reverence which it was said the charms of virtue would produce could her form be made visible; Nor could mere human love obtrude itself til the sweet awe of the first effect had been familiarized away.[10]



Friday July 22nd – Sandusky

After a very pleasant ride I reached home this morning about half past ten.  I spent a very pleasant time at ___ as I always do.  They are all well but _____ who has the “whooping cough” romantic,  __ found all  well at house & very glad to have me back again. A. ____ B___ has just arrived bringing a large mail and some ___ from the ____.  I hope we have letters from dear Risque.  It has been nearly three months since his last was written, in every letter nearly he mentioned “Rebel” & to think the soldiers have taken him, I am glad tho’ that the Yankees did not get him. I miss my beautiful horse so much.  He had learned to trust me, & tho’ so wild as to be almost unmanageable, he was very gentle with me, would follow me all over the yard and feed from my hand. Risque will be so much distressed to hear that he is gone, but he cannot be more grieved than I was. Gen. Averell offered me a horse, I almost wish now I had taken it.  Gen. Hunter’s army is very much demoralized, on the retreat it is said he lost about eight thousand men, I know it is not womanly to delight in suffering, still they are only drinking the better cup prepared for us, thank God that he has punished them. I only wish the Rulers at Washington could feel what they have doomed the soldiers to, they will I hope at [one] distant day, “Vengeance is mine saith the Lord, I will repay”



[11]And I Apprehend that this is the exalting [or] etherealizing attribute of beauty to which all poets, all writers who would poetize the realities of life have unconsciously rendered homage, in the rank to which they elevate what, stripped of such attribute would be but a gaudy idol of painted clay, If from the loftiest epic to the tritest novel a heroine is often little more than a name to which we are called upon to bow as a symbol representing beauty; and if we ourselves feel that in art at least, imagination needs an image of the Beautiful— if in a word, both poet and reader here would not be left excuseless, it is because in our inmost heart[s] there is a sentiment which links the ideal of beauty with the supersensual

Wouldn’t thou, for instance form some vague conception of the shape worn by a pure soul released! Wouldst thou give it to the likeness of an ugly hag?  Or wouldst thou not ransack all thy remembrances, of all thy conceptions of forms most beauteous to clothe the holy image? Do so, now bring it to thy minds eye, thus robed with all the richest graces—,

Well seest thou now the excuse for poets in rank they give to beauty

Seest thou now how high from the realm of the senses soars the mysterious archetype, Without the idea of beauty couldst thou conceive a form in which to clothe a soul to enter Heaven – Bulwer[12]



Saturday, July 23rd

I rode in to Lynchburg in the carriage this evening, and brought out Brother & dear Sister with me. I am so delighted to have her at home again. She has been in Richmond nearly three weeks. Who should I meet this morning riding ___ but my old “beau”, Jos. G. He made me a very respectful bow, but passed so swiftly I did not have to smile to return it. There is glorious news from Gen. Hood this evening. We have gained a glorious victory before Atlanta. “Allah be praised!” Oh! God, we thank thee — for everything. I think we will soon thank Him for a speedy peace. It is said our army is going again into Maryland. Sister brought me Guy Livingston to read. I have heard it so often spoken of. I know I shall like it. Sister and I called to see Mrs. Col. Walker this evening. She is in great distress about poor little Annie. I feel so much for her.

I saw Annie Lewis on the street this evening. She is very fine looking.

Dear Pa is so grateful for the great victory which God has given us. I thought I heard tears in his voice when he was reading it to me.



As some man in ancient story, banished from his native land banished is told by an oracle to seek a happier isle in undiscovered seas – freights with his all a single bark Collects in his wandering altar the last embers of his abandoned hearth – places beside it his exiled household gods; so all my life had left to me, I stored it in you hallowing, & hallowed I stored in you……

I tore myself from old native soil, the old hardy skies.  Through time’s wide ocean I saw but the promised golden isle, Fables, fables! – lying oracle – sunken vessel – visionary isle – Life to me had till then been so utterly without love! Had passed in such arid labors –

Without a holiday of romance – all the fountains of the unknown passion sealed till the spell struck the rock & every wave, every drop sparkled fresh to a single star – Yet my boyhood like other men’s had dreamed of an ideal – there at last that ideal come to life bloomed before me there under these Beech trees the Caroline of old, Oh! wretched woman now weeping at my side, well may you weep! Never can earth bring you back such love as you lost in mine –[13]

Guy Darrell

Guy Darrell

Lady Caroline Montfort[14]



Sunday, July 24th

None of us went to Church today except Pa. He has brought home information of the glorious news from Atlanta. I am so sorry I did not go to Church today & I have been reading Guy Livingston[15] all day. I am afraid it was very wrong. Still, I was interested and had nothing “good” to read so I thought I had as well read that as do nothing. Sister & Brother have just gone out for a walk. I did not go with them because I was reading – Ma is standing just under my window counting her turkeys – I must hurry & go down to her. I am afraid she is lonely – She is looking up here now & says I must come down that my journal is all nonsense. I don’t think Ma understands me very well. We have nothing from Risque yet. I hope oh! so sincerely that we will get a letter. This evening is so cool & like fall. The sky is a dull neutral grey so different from the gorgeous skies that we have had. I think “Guy Livingston” is exceedingly interesting but I do not like books in which everybody dies.



____ in Arabian Nights

A man wakes & finds himself at a strange City’s gate, 10.000 leagues from his home, to whom there comes up a venerable ______ saying to him, My son, heaven has blessed me with one daughter a pearl of great beauty; many have sought her in marriage but in vain.  Your appearance pleases me, I should like you for my son-in-law.[16]

—————— Drawn by conceit from reason’s place,

How vain is that poor creature; man!

How pleased is every paltry elf

To prate about that thing, himself.[17]


She is a woman, therefore may be woo’d;

She is a woman, therefore may be won.


One crowded hour of glorious life

Is worth an age without a name![19]


And telling a tale of glorious gallant war

On his brow was a slight but glorious scar.[20]


Who dies in vain,

[Upon] his country war fields & within

The shadow of her [atlas]?


Tuesday, 26th July

How fast time flies the month is nearly out now. Oh! my God, was I made for such a life as this! I have an impossible longing in my heart for a better life. There is an indefinable longing in my soul for something. is it human longing for human love? Or is it something higher & nobler that I wish for, I do not know. I know I have dreamed of a happier home. Father, Mother, Brothers all have a share in it. Then I think of the high place in society that I think I am fitted to fill; that perhaps is selfish and worldly: Is it unworthy of a woman to wish to shine in society? I do not think so, I think all of us owe something to the world & in discharging our duty here we [may] fulfill our destiny. God has fitted woman to be an ornament to society — it is a noble ____ I hope some day that I may take the place that God has fitted me to fill. Oh! God, keep always in my heart a love for truth, honor & virtue, let me place those above all other idols. I am young, I am ambitious…. I almost afraid that I when I enter the world, I will become one of the world; selfish, proud, & forgetful of the noble principle of truth and religion. I feel what a true woman has written is but the unspoken burden of thought, that I feel:

“Rise woman rise!

Aspire! to all the calms and magnanimities

The lofty uses & noble ends,

The sanctified devotion & full work

To which thou art elect forever more[21]



Last of music                                                              Le R___-

Polka Militaire by Martinez[22]                                                  O______ Sabat Mater

_____ March bu Reyes

Grand march – Schulloff[23]

Rossini’s Sabat Mater[24]


Nathilie Waltz – Beyer                                                           The gondolier’s song, Mendelsshon

P_____ Waltzes – L___                                                          arranged by Beyer –

Sophie Waltz – Strauss[25]                                                         —–

Mozart’s Favorite Waltz                                                         The Praise of Years. Schubert


Last Hope – ___________

______ ______ – with _____

____ have sighed to ___ me. With ____


L______ – Mozart

Parting Hour, Mendelsshon

_________ Nocturne

Where are the friends of my youth, ____ –

Judas Maccabeus – Handel


Fargo               Schubert’s Wanderer –

Go forget me – Mozart

Loved of other years – Schriner –

She is Thine – Barr

I’m Thinking o’er the days Mary –

Rossini’s Sabat Mater

Mozart’s Requiem

Oh! moments of pleasure Mozart

How beautiful are [their] feet – Handel

I know that my Redeemer liveth – Handel

[Go] demand of you light Zephyr ______

I’ll watch for her – ___________

Wednesday, July 27th

Was spent very pleasantly at “Hunter’s Hill”, the old country residence of Major J. Beverly Risque, (my grandfather). How the old place has changed since Grand Pa died. I don’t think he would hardly recognize it now. Cousin James Ward has a pottery there & the green sloping lawn looks like a brick yard. The old rambling house is going to decay. “Ben Bob” and a family of the aristocratic name of Sadler (Sadler) are is living there. Mrs. John [Otey] lives in a wing. It was to her that our visit was made. We spent a very pleasant day. Ella Ward is staying out there. It seemed so strange that Ella and I should see so little of each other when we were almost like sisters sometime ago. I love her dearly yet and always shall, let come what may. A letter has been received from Captain Boyd Falkner. He is at Johnston’s Island & says he has seen his old friends Risque Hutter and Charlie Averett — that they are both well. We were delighted to hear that Risque was well. It has been so long since we heard from him. I am glad that Captain Falkner has been sent to Johnston’s Island. He can give Risque all the news about Lynchburg. Gen. Early has gained a decided victory in the Valley. Gen. Sullivan among the killed (Yankee) He was in Hunter’s army. He has met the fate he so richly deserves, all of them — I hope will meet the same — except General Averell.



Is there, kind Heaven! No constancy in man?

No steadfast truth, no generous fixed affection.

That can bear up against a selfish world?

No, there is none.


Friend hath forsaken friend, the brotherly ties

Been lightly loos’d – the parted coldly met –

Yea, mothers have with desperate hands wrought harm

To little lives from their own bosoms lent,

Best woman still hath loved – if that indeed

Woman e’re loved like me-

Maturin’s Bertram[27]

Of all wild beasts, preserve me from a tyrant

And of all tame – a flatterer –

Jonson’s Sejnanus[28]

Oh! She was all!

My fame, my friendship, & my love of arms

All stooped to her; my blood was her possession;

Deep in the secret foldings of my heart,

She lived with life & far the dearer she.


Lightly thou say’st that woman’s love is false,

The thought is falser far-

For some of them are true as martyr’s legends

As full of suffering faith, of burning love,

Of high devotion, worthier Heaven than earth.


Friday morning, July 29th

Brother and Sister are spending today in Lynchburg. I mean Sister, — Brother spends everyday there. I have just finished a long letter to Risque, dear Brother. We received three such long, sweet letters from him yesterday. He can only write one page but he says so much on a page that it seems like a long letter. Dear Ma is sick today. I hope she will soon be well. She is in bed. I went in the garden and gathered a basket full of plumbs — and am so heated. [After dinner] — I am housekeep since Ma is sick. Pa said I had a very nice dinner — & I think so too, for [one]. Desserts are very rare these days, but I had one — plumbs with sugar and cream. They were delightful. I hope we may hear good news this evening. It is said our Army has gone back into Maryland. I hope so. In the news this evening there is a report of Gen. Averall’s death. I would be more than sorry if it be true. I will never forget the kindness and gentleness with which he treated me, and when I needed it so much. I suppose the interest I feel in him is very foolish a thing. No more than the interest every young girl feels in a brave and handsome man. I know he is a bitter enemy of the South, but still, the North is his country & he loves it just as I love the south. He places his country before truth & right. Thank God I know the South is right & and that our cause is truth’s and God’s.


Tis night when meditation bids us feel we once have loved

The tear most sacred, shed for other’s pain

That starts at once – bright – pure from pity’s mine,

Already polished by a hand divine!


Oh! Too convincing – dangerously dear –

In woman’s eye the unanswerable tear!

What weapon of her weakness she can wield

To save, subdue – at once her spear & shield;

Avoid it- Virtue ebbs & wisdom errs

To fondly gazing on the grief of hers –

What lost a world & bade a hero fly,

The timid tear in Cleopatra’s eye,

By this, how many lose not earth – but heaven!

Consign their souls to man’s eternal foe,

And seal their own to spare some wanton’s woe!

The Corsair-[31]

Oh! How I envy those,

Whose hearts on hearts as faithful can repose,

Who never feel the void ___ void of thought

-The wandering thought

That sighs o’er visions, such as mine that wrought

The Corsair –[32]




Saturday morning, July 29th[33]

Today is emphatically “Hot,” as the Republican delicately expresses it – it is the “[blaginist]” day ever felt.  Sister has just finished a long letter to Risque.  I hope he will receive all our letters regularly.  Dear Ma is much better, indeed nearly well this morning.  Dr. Terrell was here this morning.  I did not see the light of his countenance.  I was attending to the breakfast table.

Brother brought home the news this evening that the Enemy had blown up our works at Petersburg, killing some of our men. They were driven back as the papers say with “terrible slaughter.” We lost heavily too. I hope their blood will cease flowing when Lincoln is no longer President. Only six more months if it does of war and wretchedness. “Peace” is freely spoken of at the North, & a peace President will, I hope, be chosen.

“Still, still forever,

Better tho’ each man’s life blood were a river.


Better be, where the extinguished Spartans still are free.

In their proud charnel of Thermopylea”

Than yield and accept a “peace” without entire freedom

I sometimes ask myself where will all this end? I hope I may live to see my country           enjoying her “rights cheaply earned with Blood.”[34]
Tis night when meditation bids us feel

We once have loved, tho’ love is at an end;

The heart lone mourner of its baffled zeal,

Tho’ friendless now will dream it had a friend

Childe Harold[35]


Not much he kens I ween of woman’s breast

Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs;

What careth she for hearts when once possessed?

Do proper homage to thine idol’s eyes

But not too humbly or she will despise

Thee & thy suit

Childe Harold –[36]


When all is won that all desire, to woo,

The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost –

Childe Harold[37]


The waves bound beneath me as a steed

That knows his rider –

“ “[38]


T’is the hour when from the boughs

The nightengale’s high note is heard

T’is the hour when lover’s vows

Seem sweet in every whispered word

Byron’s Parasina[39]


There’s naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms,

As rum & true religion –

Don Juan[40]

Sunday morning, July 30th[41]

Pa has just returned from Church. Says he heard a very fine sermon on the “Beauty of Holiness” from the lips of our dear Pastor, Mr. Kinkle. I wish I could have heard it. I have been at home all the morning reading & talking to Ma and Sister. Pa says Amelia Halsey fainted in Church today. Poor Amelia. I feel so much sympathy for her. She lost, her betrothed Gen. Gordon, & a few weeks since her brother Alex. It seems hard to bear with such affliction, & she is such a noble girl too.

Sunday evening. We have had a delightful shower this evening. I am afraid not enough to do a great deal of good to the earth which is burning up, but enough to cool the air very pleasantly. I see Aunt Aley just coming from Church & it now after five. I think all the servants went to hear the funeral sermon of Uncle Lewis, one of Grand Pa’s old family servants. The Northern papers say Gen. Averell has not been heard of since the late battle. I hope he may be a prisoner, I should think if an officer of his renown had been killed, it would certainly have been known. It is said he lost all his artillery. I am delighted at that. I wish his whole army may be destroyed, but I hope his life will be spared. I do not believe a word of the report about his death.


Love’s a capricious power![42]


Man’s love is of man’s life, a thing apart

Tis woman’s whole existence; man may range

The court, the camp, church, the vessel and the mart;

Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange

Pride fame ambition to fill up his heart,

And few there are whom these cannot estrange;

Men have all these resources, we but one

To love again, & be again undone.

Don Juan[43]


T’is sweet to know there is an eye will mark

Our coming, & look brighter when we come.

Don Juan[44]

Her favorite science was the mathematical

Her noblest virtue was her magnanimity

Her wit (she sometimes tried at wit)

Was attic all –

Her serious sayings darkened to sublimity;

In short, in all things she was fairly what I call

A prodigy – [45]


Hypothesis – a supposition

Axiom a self evident truth


{I only feel that without thee

The sun itself is dark to me -}

Monday morning July 31st

Wednesday August 3rd

For the past three or four days I have had such a painful rising on my finger that it has been impossible to write. It is getting better now, tho’ yet I suffer with it. Sister and I have been sitting in her chamber reading Byron’s “Manfred.” I think it is grand. All of us are in a state of anxiety to hear the news of our [Armies]. It is said it is our plan to invade the enemy’s country again. I hope it may be true. I think they ought, in simple justice, to be made to feel something of the war. They will know then what we have had to suffer during the last four years. I pray every day for peace. When Lincoln’s time is out I think we can then hope for it. Brother has come – no news. How glad Sister is when he arives. “Tis sweet to known there is an eye will mark our coming & grow brighter when we come.”[46] I suppose he realizes the truth contained in those two lines. I know I should, – had I an eye to mark my coming- It must be very sweet to love someone as Sister loves Brother. I wonder if the feverish dream I have known is real love, deep as my woman’s heart is capable of feeling. No, I do not think I have yet loved as I will someday love.



There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore,

There is society where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, & music in its roar;

I love not man the less but nature more,

From all I may be, or have been before,

To mingle with the universe, & feel

What I can ne’er express yet cannot all conceal

Childe Harold[47]

Roll on, thou deep & dark blue ocean roll!

Ten thousand fleets sweep o’er thee in vain;

Man marks the earth with ruin – his controle

Stops with the shore; – upon the watery plains

The wrecks are all thy deeds, nor doth remain

A shadow of man’s ravage save his own,

When for a moment, like a drop of rain

He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,

Without a grave, unknell’d uncoffind & unknown[48]


And I have loved thee, ocean! And my joy

Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be

Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy,

I wanton’d with thy brakers – they to me, were a

Were a delight, and if the freshening sea

Made them a terror – t’was a pleasing fear,

For I was as it were a child of thee

And trusted to thy billows far & near,

And laid my hand upon thy mane

As I do here.[49] ————————————-


Farewell! A word that must be, & hath been,

A sound that makes us linger yet – farewell!


Thursday eve, August 4th

The shadows which herald the coming of night are deepening around me. Today, Aunt Emma & Miss Edwards spent with us. day I spent very pleasantly. Miss Edwards is going North, & from there to sail for England. She is going “home.” I sometimes look at that woman and wonder if there is not some “wild heart history” in her life. I pity her, she seems very sad now. I love to talk to her. She is well read and has traveled. We had a long talk in the parlor today. She paid me a compliment which I hope will not be vanity to record. I think she has a special power of drawing people out. I am glad tho’ some[times] [a fraid] someone who feels as I feel. She told me that I had “genius” it only wanted a little encouragement- and perseverance to bring it out. Oh! God, that I had genius, & could soothe the restlessness of my soul in some way. I know I am not gifted, still I think I am a little better. I have taste enough to appreciate the beautiful in art and nature it is that enthusiasm which she takes for genius- It is so dark I cannot see to write anymore -“[value].”



Are not the mountains, waves & skies a part

Of me & __ of my soul, as I of them?

Is not the love of these deep in my heart

With a pure passion? -–[51]


I live not in myself, but I become

Portion of that around me; & to me

High mountains are a feeling, but the hum

Of human cities torture;



Love partakes of the soul itself. It is the same nature.  Like it, it is a divine spark – like it, it is incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable.  It is a point of fire which is within us, which is immortal and infinite, which nothing can limit & which nothing can extinguish. We feel it burn even in the marrow of our bones, and we see it radiate even to the depth of the sky.

Victor Hugo[53]


You look at a star from too motives, because it is luminous & because it is impenetrable.

You have at your side a softer radiance & a greater mystery –woman![54]

Friday eve, August 5th

This morning Johnnie Ward drove over for us. We spent the day delightfully at Hunter’s Hill. rode over in a spring wagon with two mules, quite an aristocratic equipage! We spent a delightful day. Ella and Addie both there after dinner Ella, Addie & I retired to the woods, undressed ourselves all but our nether garments and had a “funny old” time. Ella read me some of her letter from Mr. Adams. They are “quite daring” to use the mildest expression applicable. I hope she will marry him, & realize all the happiness I wish for her. I think she is very deeply in love. Ella informed me today that [Jimmie] Otey had told her to ask me to correspond with him when he returned to the [army]. I think he might have had the manliness to ask me himself.

Our Army in Penn. has burnt Chambersburg. There is a great hue and cry in the North about it – a great & magnificent burst of indignation. They don’t seem to think of the ashes of Southern towns and homesteads. The desolated fields, – & the greatest outrage of all, the charred remains our glorious Institute where the best and noblest of Virginia’s sons have received their military education. I thank Heaven that the people of Pennsylvania, have felt something, just one ____ of anguish it is when compared with mortal throes that Virginia has suffered – Still how proud she stands before the world – glorious in her suffering, in her desolation & her heroism Thank God for my birthright.



May she not love thee,

And not show her loving?

May not her silence

Be love’s best proving?


May not timidity

Hide the deep feeling

Too wild & worshipping,

For light revealing?


May not some hated tie,

Light woven, yet strong,

Crush down the tender sigh,

Making love wrong?


May she not turn to thee

Eyes dark with tears.

Tenderly silently,

Telling her fears?


Think not she loves thee not,

Believe her not cold

Under world drifted sands,

Oft lies pure gold-


Tell her you love her,

And heed not her coldness

What though she blush or frown

Press on with boldness[55]



Saturday, August 6th

I have nothing to record today. Aunt Aley brought us the mail. No news. says she saw a good many people standing, round the “bullet board.” I think it is only a sensation ____ gotten up by herself. Our Army is still in Maryland. it is supposed, tho’ the Northern papers seem to be in a delightful state of ignorance as to the movements of our “Army of Invasion” & we are kept in the same by our government. Pa and I were sitting not he porch this evening. He looks very bad. I was trying to cheer him up. I asked him during the conversation what he thought a woman’s destiny & duty were. I had my soul full of aspiring thoughts – ambition that was as daring as it was impossible. I remember so well how Pa said, he thought a woman’s duty was entirely a domestic one – she ought to learn to sew, knit, keep house, spin, etc. I felt my eyes fill with blinding tears. It was such a damper to my thoughts. I will be nineteen in November, nineteen it seems an age to me – still in the world’s eye it is but a span.

[Mellie] is in my room talking all the time, saying she wonders whose children will be the prettiest when I am married, mine & Mip Mary’s. Her verdict is that mine will surpass all other children- I think that is a practical illustration of “counting the chickens before they are hatched.”



There is no woman’s heart

But love will move

Then win her by loving her

The loveth love –


Sandusky August 15th, 1864

What a grand thing it is to be loved! What a grander thing still to love! – The heart becomes heroic though passion. It is no longer composed of anything but what is pure. It no longer rests upon anything but what is elevated and great. An unworthy thought can no more spring up in it than a nettle upon a glacier. The soul lofty & serene inaccessible to common passion and common emotions, rising above the clouds and shadows of this world, its follies, its falsehoods, its [hates], its vanities, its miseries, inhabits the blue of the skies, & only feels more the deep and subterranean commotions of destiny, as the [summit] of the mountains feels the quaking of the earth-

Victor Hugo  [56]



Sunday morning August 7th

Pa has just called me to consult me about wearing a white linen coat and straw hat to Church. He has gone now and looked very nicely, tho’ quite rural. He gave me a very sweet kiss. Oh! I wish I could win Pa back to his old pleasant winning ways. I think I could. Brother & Sister have both gone to Church. Ma & I are at home. I wish so much that I could have gone to Church this morning. I have not been for so long. It is a beautiful day bright & cloudless & quite pleasant.

Sunday eve — Pa, Brother & Sister all have returned from Church. They heard one of Mr. Kinkle’s usually fine sermons. Sister came home enraptured with the music. Annie & Lizzie & Col. Langhorne have left the choir (a good thing) & Mrs. Edmund Norvell taken the lead. The music, they say, was delightful. I wish I could have heard it. Gen. Lee has been counter mining & has blown up Grant’s works. I hope that will put a stop to Grant’s mining. At Atlanta a great battle is expected. I have few fears for the result. Gen. Hood is a glorious fellow – familiar, [nest pas] –  He was one of Brother’s most intimate friends. They were at West Point together. It is raining a little. I wish we could have a good rain. How it would benefit everything.


List of Books


Friday morning, Sept 3rd

Gen Robert E. Rodes is to be buried this morning. Gen. Coleton sent out yesterday for Pa to be one of the pall bearers. I was so anxious for Pa to go in, as it is such a distinction. They wished to have six distinguished citizens and rest officers. Pa declined. I am very sorry. I wanted him to show that he honored the dead patriot soldier. He was killed in the Valley in the late defeat to our arms- how many noble spirits have been sacrificed to this war- I should not have written spirits – no! Their bodies are only dead. Their brave patriot souls still live in another, I hope, & happier world. To It is a sweet thought to me, that they watch from their high home the ____ struggles of the South – and intercede before in our behalf. But a poet has expressed it beautifully than any poor words of mine.

“With the heart of the South, before the throne of God, And these wounds to tell the storys-” Ah! Yes we have ____ glorious army of martyrs in heaven, their intercessions before the everlasting throne with[57] be of more service than the sympathy & aid of the whole world, Yes our Jackson, Polk, Stewart, ______, Johnston, Rhodes, & _____ others are still [compatriots] and [co-laborers] with our Lee-Davis [Beauregarde][58] – __.  Yes & do we not humbly trust that the Lord of battles, the Ruler of Nations, the king of Kings and Lord of Lords is with us.



Books continued

[1] Arboreta?

[2] Incomplete verse from the Hymn “In the Sweet By and By” by Sanford F. Bennett, 1868

[3] From a poem called “Melt the Bells” written in 1862 after General Beauregard issued a call in April to the people of the South for the donation of metals to meet the wartime emergency; specifically, bells for the casting of cannon. The poem ran in the Memphis Commercial Appeal later that month.

[4] Line is actually “And when foes no more attack”

[5] “The present celestial memory,

Shadow of goods.

Is still a pleasure that remains

After all those we lost.”

From a romance composition for voice and piano by Vincenzo Bellini c. 1835

[6] Your friend

[7] June

[8] idyl

[9] Attributed to Mary H. C. Booth in 1865, perhaps originially published under Tennyson’s name, or  maybe just misattributed by Ada

[10] From What Will He Do With It? a novel by Edward Bulwer, Baron of Lytton, continued on a later page

[11] Continued from earlier page quoting Bulwer

[12] From What Will He Do With It? a novel by Edward Bulwer Baron of Lytton

[13] From What Will He Do With It? By Edward Bulwer, Baron of Lytton

[14] Characters speaking and referred to in this excerpt from What Will He Do With It? By Edward Bulwer, Baron of Lytton

[15] Book by George A Lawrence

[16] Matches story from the Arabian Nights,“The Story of Noureddin Ali and Bedreddin Hassan”

[17] From Book III of poem by Charles Churchill (1732-1764), The Ghost in Four Books (1763).

[18] From Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus, Act II, Scene I

[19] From Thomas Osbert Mordaunt’s poem “The Call” written during the Seven Years’ War (1756-1763)

[20] From Letitia Elizabeth Landon’s poem “The Lost Pleiad” (1829)

[21] Perhaps from a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning “A Drama of Exile”

[22] Probably “La polka militaire” by Antonio C. Martinez, 1850

[23] Probably Julius Schulhoff (August 22, 1825 – March 15, 1898)

[24] Probably Gioachino Rossini’s “Stabat Mater,” 1841

[25] “Sophie Waltzes” composed by Johann Strauss, 1850

[26] From James Thomson’s Tancred and Sigismunda: A Tragedy,

[27] From George Robert Maturin’s Bertram or Castle in St. Aldobrand: a Tragedy in Five Acts, 1816

[28] From Benjamin Jonson’s play Sejanus, Act I, 1603

[29] From Edward Young’s The Revenge: A Tragedy, 1753

[30] From Maturin’s Bertram

[31] From Canto II, XV of Lord Byron’s The Corsair, 1814

[32] From Canto II, XIV of Lord Byron’s The Corsair, 1814

[33] The actual date would have been the 30th, but people make mistakes, then as now

[34] Quotes may be from One of Byron’s Odes, beginning “Oh Venice! Venice!”

[35] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto II, XXIII

[36] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto II, XXXIV

[37] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto II, XXXV

[38] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto III, II

[39] From Lord Byron’s Parisina, 1816

[40] From Lord Byron’s Don Juan, 1819, Canto II

[41] This Sunday would have been the 31st

[42] From Lord Byron’s Don Juan, 1819, Canto II

[43] From Lord Byron’s Don Juan, 1819, Canto I

[44] From Lord Byron’s Don Juan, 1819, Canto I

[45] From Lord Byron’s Don Juan, 1819, Canto I

[46] From Lord Byron’s “Don Juan” Canto 1, St. 119-123

[47] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto IV

[48] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto IV

[49] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto IV

[50] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto IV

[51] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto III

[52] From Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812, Canto III

[53] From “Saint Denis,” Volume 4 of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo (1862)

[54] From “Saint Denis,” Volume 4 of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo (1862)

[55] Answer to a poem bewailing the coldness of a lady love, Nov. 4, 1862

[56] From Victor Hugo’s “Les Miserables,” although it is not quoted exactly word for word

[57] Definitely says “with” but probably meant to be “will”

[58] Perhaps meaning respectability?