Life in Dixie during the War, 1861-1862-1863-1864-1865

soldiers

PROGRAMME

Part I

1. We Come Again – (Original) – Company.

2. Dreams – (A Reverie) – Miss J. E. Whitney.

3. Violin Solo – (Hash) – Colonel Thomas F. Lowe.

4. “Not for Gold or Precious Stones” – Miss R. J. Hale.

5. Yankee Doodle – According to W. A. Haynes.

6. Dixie Variations – Mrs. W. T. Farrar.

7. “Two Merry Alpine Maids” – Misses M. F. and J. E. Whitney.

8. “When I Saw Sweet Nellie Home” – Misses Sasseen and Judson.

9. “Root Hog or Die” – W. H. Barnes.

Instrumental Trio, “La Fille du Regiment” – Messrs. Schoen and Heindl. Vermicelli, (Variations) – W. H. Barnes and Openheimer.

Part II

1. “Our Southern Land” – C. P. Haynes and Company.

2. “Through Meadows Green” – Miss M. F. Whitney.[1 - This lady, Miss “Frank” Whitney, is now the wife of Mr. Charles W. Hubner, the well-known Atlanta poet.]

3. Solo – Thomas D. Wright.

4. “Home, Sweet Home” – Miss R. J. Hale.

5. Violin Exemplification – Col. Thomas F. Lowe.

6. “Happy Days of Yore” – Mrs. Hibler.

7. Quartette – (original) – Misses Whitney, Messrs. Barnes and Haynes.

8. “Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep” – Prof. Hanlon. Encore – Ballad.

9. “I Come, I Come” – Misses Sasseen, Westmoreland and Sims.

The whole to conclude with the grand original.

TABLEAU,

(In Two Parts)

The Women and Children of Dixie Rejoicing Over the Success of the Confederate Banner.

Scene 1. The Children of Dixie.

Scene 2. The Women – The Soldiers – Our Flag – Brilliant Illumination.

Doors open at half past 7 o’clock. Curtain will rise at half past 8 o’clock.

Tickets, Fifty Cents. Ushers will be on hand to seat audience.

W. H. BARNES, Manager

CHAPTER IV.

LABORS OF LOVE

Knitting and Sewing, and Writing Letters to “Our Soldiers.”

A patriotic co-operation between the citizens of Decatur and Atlanta soon sprang up, and in that, as in all things else, a social and friendly interchange of thought and feeling and deed existed; and we were never so pleased as when aiding each other in the preparation of clothing and edibles for “our soldiers,” or in some way contributing to their comfort.

Many of us who had never learned to sew became expert handlers of the needle, and vied with each other in producing well-made garments; and I became a veritable knitting machine. Besides the discharge of many duties incident to the times and tending to useful results, I knitted a sock a day, long and large, and not coarse, many days in succession. At the midnight hour the weird click of knitting needles chasing each other round and round in the formation of these useful garments for the nether limbs of “our boys,” was no unusual sound; and tears and orisons blended with woof and warp and melancholy sighs. For at that dark hour, when other sounds were shut out, we dared to listen with bated breath to “the still, small voice” that whispered in no unmistakable language suggestions which would have been rebuked in the glare of the noonday sun.

No mother nor sister nor wife nor aunt of a Confederate soldier, need be told what were the depressing suggestions of that “still, small voice” on divers occasions.

When the knitting of a dozen pairs of socks was completed, they were washed, ironed and neatly folded by one of our faithful negro women, and I then resumed the work of preparing them for their destination. Each pair formed a distinct package. Usually a pretty necktie, a pair of gloves, a handkerchief and letter, deposited in one of the socks, enlarged the package. When all was ready, a card bearing the name of the giver, and a request to “inquire within,” was tacked on to each package. And then these twelve packages were formed into a bundle, and addressed to an officer in command of some company chosen to be the recipient of the contents.

I will give a glimpse of the interior of my letters to our boys. These letters were written for their spiritual edification, their mental improvement and their amusement.

“Never saw I the righteous forsaken.”

“Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”

P. S. – “Apples are good but peaches are better;
If you love me, you will write me a letter.” – M.

“Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.”

“If in the early morn of life,
You give yourself to God,
He’ll stand by you ’mid earthly strife,
And spare the chast’ning rod.” —

P. S. – “Roses are red and violets blue,
Sugar is sweet and so are you.” – M.