By Louise Wigfall Wright
IN collecting the unhappy and chuffed stories of the years of which I write, i'm actuated through causes - one, that i'm awake that the times are passing, and that if performed in any respect, the chronicle had top be written ere the attention that has obvious these items grows dim and the reminiscence defective; and the opposite, that i'd fain reside within the recommendations of the kids who shall come after me, and feature their hearts, as they learn this list, beat in unison with mine. hence lets be associated jointly in those memories.
I bear in mind, in the summertime of 1858, sitting at the vast piazza in entrance of our domestic in Marshall, Texas, gazing the good comet that hung within the heavens. i will see now the crêpe myrtle trees with their rose-colored blossoms, flanking the stairs; believe back the nice and cozy, languorous air of the summer season evening, heavy with the smell of white jasmine, and honeysuckle; and listen to back the voices, lengthy stilled, as we talked jointly of the comet and its portent. As a baby, I felt the effect of the time: nice occasions have been forming; the "irrepressible conflict," which culminated within the lousy fight of the sixties, was once simply changing into, to the brain of thinkers, a apprehensive chance; and after we checked out the blazing comet in that reasonable summer time sky, a sense of awe and secret enveloped us. evening after evening we watched it, and singular to assert, it's the merely exact impact left on my brain of the summer season of '58.
within the autumn my father was once elected the nation Senate and we made arrangements for our trip to Austin. there have been no railroads around the nation in these days, and the loads of miles needed to be traversed via inner most conveyance, or via degree coach.
We determined to make the day trip in our outdated- formed relatives carriage, drawn by way of a couple of stout horses and pushed by means of our negro coachman, Henry. My brother got here with us on horseback. We made the adventure in effortless levels - our baggage, in fact, being despatched on by means of trainer. we might force approximately thirty miles an afternoon - by no means extra; preventing in the course of the day for an hour or so, while the horses will be completely rested and fed, and we'd have our luncheon.
At evening, we constantly stopped at a handy farmhouse, the positioning of which have been formerly discovered, and whose proprietors have been accustomed, in a rustic the place there have been no hotels, to obtain occasional travelers.
What a pleasant trip it used to be! the gorgeous, point, prairie roads, tough, white and delicate, over which we rolled, with little attempt at the horses' half - stretching at the back of and sooner than us that huge expanse of prairie, now, in November, lined with tall, waving, yellow grass; yet in June excellent with the beautiful blue plant life of the buffalo clover - preventing, at times, to water the horses from the natural, limpid springs; the heavens blue as a sapphire and the solar shining!
i don't consider any wet days within the ten in which we have been at the highway. The noon meal, taken by means of the banks of a few transparent, attractive circulate, was once a banquet certainly - a regular picnic of the main spell binding kind.
I keep in mind in basic terms adventures incidentally. One was once our environment the prairie on fireplace by way of thoughtlessly throwing a lighted fit within the dry grass, which would have resulted very heavily had we no longer been close to a circulate, and had now not the wind been blowing in the direction of it, and within the wrong way from that during which we have been going. because it occurred, it used to be an engaging and novel sight, considered at a secure distance. And it ended in a lot merriment, as we recalled our first apprehensive efforts to place out the prairie hearth by means of futile little journeyings to and from the flow with cups of water.
Our different event used to be fording the Brazos River, a huge, swift-running, shallow flow, so limpid that the stones at the backside have been basically visible.
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Additional resources for A Southern Girl in '61 The War-Time Memories of a Confederate Senator's Daughter [1905.]
A Southern Girl in '61 The War-Time Memories of a Confederate Senator's Daughter [1905.] by Louise Wigfall Wright