Showing posts with label dawson sarah morgan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dawson sarah morgan. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The "Beast" Benjamin Franklin Butler

This entry is from  A Confederate Girl's Diary  by Sarah Morgan Dawson

Dawson discusses life's uncertainties amid the turmoil of Union occupation, and the "Woman Order" of the Union officer in charge,  Benjamin Franklin Butler (nicknamed "Beast" or "Brute")  which stipulated that women who insulted Union soldiers would be treated as prostitutes. 

Baton Rouge, Louisiana, amidst chaos
May 17th, 1862
One of these days, when peace is restored and we are quietly settled in our allotted corners of this wide world without any particularly exciting event to alarm us; and with the knowledge of what is now the future, and will then be the dead past; seeing that all has been for the best for us in the end; that all has come right in spite of us, we will wonder how we could ever have been foolish enough to await each hour in such breathless anxiety. We will ask ourselves if it was really true that nightly, as we lay down to sleep, we did not dare plan for the morning, feeling that we might be homeless and beggars before the dawn. How unreal it will then seem! We will say it was our wild imagination, perhaps. But how bitterly, horribly true it is now!

Four days ago the Yankees left us, to attack Vicksburg, leaving their flag flying in the Garrison without a man to guard it, and with the understanding that the town would be held responsible for it. It was intended for a trap; and it succeeded. For night before last, it was pulled down and torn to pieces.

Now, unless Will will have the kindness to sink a dozen of their ships up there,—I hear he has command of the lower batteries,—they will be back in a few days, and will execute their threat of shelling the town. If they do, what will become of us? . . . .


. . . .A new proclamation from Butler has just come. It seems that the ladies have an ugly way of gathering their skirts when the Federals pass, to avoid any possible contact. Some even turn up their noses. Unladylike, to say the least. But it is, maybe, owing to the odor they have, which is said to be unbearable even at this early season of the year. Butler says, whereas the so-called ladies of New Orleans insult his men and officers, he gives one and all permission to insult any or all who so treat them, then and there, with the assurance that the women will not receive the slightest protection from the Government, and that the men will all be justified. I did not have time to read it, but repeat it as it was told to me by mother, who is in utter despair at the brutality of the thing. These men our brothers? Not mine! Let us hope for the honor of their nation that Butler is not counted among the gentlemen of the land. And so, if any man should fancy he cared to kiss me, he could do so under the pretext that I had pulled my dress from under his feet! That will justify them! And if we decline their visits, they can insult us under the plea of a prior affront. Oh! Gibbes! George! Jimmy! never did we need your protection as sorely as now. And not to know even whether you are alive! When Charlie joins the army, we will be defenseless, indeed. 

Come to my bosom, O my discarded carving-knife, laid aside under the impression that these men were gentlemen. We will be close friends once more. And if you must have a sheath, perhaps I may find one for you in the heart of the first man who attempts to Butlerize me. I never dreamed of kissing any man save my father and brothers. And why any one should care to kiss any one else, I fail to understand. And I do not propose to learn to make exceptions.
Benjamin Franklin Butler. by Warren's Boston, Mass
  from NYPL Digital Gallery

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

I Vow I Will Not Move One Step

Today's entry is from a Confederate Girl's Diary by Sarah Morgan Dawson.  The author, a daughter of a prominent judge, lived in New Orleans at the time.

April 26, 1862
There is no word in the English language that can express the state in which we are, and have been these last three days.  Day before yesterday, news came early in the morning of three of the enemy's boats passing the Forts, and then the excitement began.  It increased rapidly on hearing of the sinking of eight of our gunboats in the engagement, the capture of the Forts, and last night, of the burning of the wharves and cotton in the city while the Yankees were taking possession.  To-day, the excitement has reached the point of delirium.

. . .We only know we had best be prepared for anything.  So Lilly and I sewed up our jewelry, which may be of use if we have to fly.  I vow I will not move one step, unless carried away.  Come what will, here I remain.